


The Brides - Part One

by ArtemisArcher83



Series: B Series [9]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:24:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9319514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisArcher83/pseuds/ArtemisArcher83
Summary: Bering and Wells prepare to tie the knot. Suspect characters continue to play in the wings while Warehouse magnates insist on keeping secrets. How will Myka and Helena react when they discover the truth of their foe's origins, and how will they feel when they're forced to confront two long-lost family members?





	1. Author's Notes

(This page contains just a few author's notes.)

* * *

Hello there! Welcome back.

It's been a while since I had anything with multiple chapters to post, but here it is finally, the first part of The Brides!

Suffice it to say, it's not been an easy six months since I began writing again. The longer this story gets, the harder it is to keep it going without completely destroying the story line. It takes days of re-reading, research and note-taking to get the ideas flowing again and inevitably, real life interferes just as I get a good flow going and I have to start the whole process all over again. Then there are those days that I just need to say "NO!" to everything!

As I started writing The Brides, and thinking ahead to The Battle, I began to add a lot of things to the story that weren't in my plans before. I've tried my best to make everything fit seamlessly, but there's only so much I can do with working full time and having a life outside of fanfiction. I appreciate constructive criticism, always, but a nice word goes a very long way to keeping the creative juices (and motivation) flowing too.

* * *

Particulars about the story...

Because it's been mentioned in the past and it's been on my mind, I just want to address the relationship progression between HG and Myka before moving onto the next chapter. Even if it's not explicit, it is assumed that they have the usual ups and downs that couples have and deal with those in whatever way suits them on _those_ days, including bickering and the occasional cold shoulder. Keeping in mind that (as mentioned in The Bering Strait) their sessions with Abigail are ongoing, I'm not the type of person who enjoys reading or writing about emotional conflict so I refuse to throw Myka and HG into pointless back and forth 'arguments': they use the strategies they've learned as much as they can.

Screaming matches, slamming doors and holding a grudge for days on end might be reality for some people but I prefer methods that actually help and don't just pour oil on the fire for the hell of it. That said, I still want to hear your opinions – I don't want to make the characters too insipid. I hope there's enough drama and intrigue in the rest of the story to hold your attention too. If not, thank you at least for showing an interest.

Claudia's island fortress will be explored in more depth in the final instalment of this saga (The Battle). It is important for the overall story, but not so much for The Brides. All will be revealed in time.

Events in Part One of The Brides coincide with the end of Behind Secrets and Sacrifice, a compliment piece that I posted a few weeks ago. I recommend reading that at some point as it will explain things that I won't necessarily repeat here.

Warehouse 14 is up and running, with new agents overlooking all of the usual agent stuff. Claudia occasionally bypasses the 'ping' system though and asks her friends to find something for her. For the most part, our ex-agents/unofficial regents are living normal lives while keeping a vigilant eye out for disturbances in the force. The Big Battle, that I've been alluding to for a while now, is still many years away (for the characters at least), but I'm hoping to tie up a few loose ends by the end of The Brides... and perhaps unravel a couple of new ones.

I may add more notes to the ends of chapters, but I think this is all for now!

As always, I hope you enjoy the next part of the journey...


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, less of my yapping, on with the story!

_Panting, fingers almost numb from scrambling over icy rocks, lungs dragging at sharp air as it thinned with each step higher – she climbed._

_A cloying dread weighed down her feet but she pushed through the pain, through the doubt, ever upward. Jagged edges clawed at her trousers, tearing her apart piece by piece, but still she didn’t pause, didn’t falter._

_Just one more peak, one more twist or turn, surely? And then... then, all would be well again. Her harsh words could be smoothed over; apologies would mean something if they didn’t fall on unheeding ears._

_“I can’t let them down. I can’t let it be my fault..._

_... All my fault.”_

_The world shook, knocking her off balance. As she tried to regain her footing, a voice pulled her into the light and the nightmare faded._

“Christina...? Sweetheart, wake up.”

The soothing solidity of her Mama’s voice gave her direction and, with a gasp, the dreamer fell into consciousness and into her mother’s waiting embrace. “Mama?”

Myka’s arms wound securely around her daughter’s shoulders and she began to rock gently. “I’m here, Sweetheart. It’s ok. It was just a dream... Just a dream.”

Despite the reassurances, Christina’s imagined scramble kept her heart pounding from the adrenaline while tears welled now from the safety of her bed. “I’m sorry,” she choked, feeling the lingering guilt. “I didn’t mean to.”

Myka frowned, her features etched with concern. “Didn’t mean to do what, baby?”

“I don’t know,” came the plaintive reply as Christina’s head tried to burrow further into her mother’s shoulder.

“Well, whatever it was, you don’t need to worry.” Myka pulled back far enough to gather the child’s face in her hands and stroked tears away with her thumbs. “I know you would never choose to do anything malicious.”

Christina sniffed and nodded. She sank back into her mother’s arms and stayed there until the effects of her nightmare began to wear off and drowsiness pulled her eyes closed again.

“Are you ready to go back to sleep, Sweetie?”

The girl stiffened and drew back to gaze up through long lashes. “Can I sleep in your bed, Ma?”

Fingers played with wayward locks of hair as Myka contemplated the request. Eventually, she sighed and nodded. “Since I’d like the company too, it won’t hurt.”

Christina grabbed her racoon and hastily dragged the covers up to the pillow. Roquefort usually stayed quite contentedly on her bookshelf with Theodore and Angelina but, on nights like this, she needed his comforting presence.

After a quick detour to the bathroom, the pair jumped into Myka and Helena’s bed and met in the middle. The adult waited until her daughter had settled before tucking the covers around the girl’s shoulders and reaching behind her to turn off the lamp.

“Comfy?”

“Mm-hm,” Christina hummed, contentment beginning to seep into her bones with the feeling of safety. “Your bed is much bigger than mine,” she added with a yawn.

Myka chuckled lowly as her head sank into the pillow. “It needs to be. Mummy wriggles a heck of a lot some nights.”

“May we have a party when Mum comes home?”

Unseen in the dark, the regent rolled her eyes. “Any excuse,” she mumbled before adding, “A small one perhaps. Now, go to sleep. I’m right here if you need me.”

“Love you, Mama.”

Myka felt her chest tighten as it did every time she heard those words from her little angel. She placed a lingering kiss on the girl’s crown and pulled her closer. “I love you too, my little princess.”

* * * * *

Morning arrived with a knee in the kidney and a punch to the back of the head. Myka winced and jerked away from her attacker before rolling over to watch the child sleep. Careful not to move too fast, she reached across the divide to run her fingers through silky hair. Almost immediately, the young girl’s slumbering acrobats faded away, leaving behind a soft snore and the ghost of a smile.

“Just like your mother,” she whispered lovingly.

In the two and a half years since finding her daughter, Myka’s adoration of this precious little girl had only grown in intensity. It would be easy, with hindsight, to say that their blood bond had them intrinsically connected from the very beginning but that wasn’t entirely the case. It went beyond biology; her daughter completed a part of her soul. Christina was beautiful, inside and out, and it was impossible to believe that she could love the girl any less, no matter their origins. Fredrick added to that bliss and, despite having sworn that she never wanted to be pregnant again, recently she had contemplated the possibility of trying for a third.

Planning their wedding might be their immediate priority but it would be useful to know what Helena’s thoughts were beyond their nuptials. Now was a good time in their lives to make that decision if it was something they both wanted.

Making sure not to disturb Sleeping Beauty, Myka slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the landing into her son’s room. A few books lay scattered in a corner behind Christina’s half-built train track, several open drawers and a dozen jigsaw pieces, lay like breadcrumbs in a path to the door. Myka scanned the mess with a sigh, knowing that she should have made more of an effort to encourage her children to tidy before bedtime, but after the third round of Freddy enjoying the removal of his toys as much as putting them away, she was just too tired to see the task through to its desired conclusion. She settled for the knowledge that at least she had given them some practise. Some routines were just easier with her partner there to tag-team with.

As she checked on the little prince and found him still fast asleep, Myka pulled the door closed softly behind her and made for the stairs.

Her slipper-clad feet patted across the heated flag-stone floor of the generous kitchen as she made her way over to the caffeine station. She checked the water level and pressed a few buttons to begin brewing her statutory morning coffee, and then propped her tablet up on the breakfast bar before opening up the scrapbook folder she and Christina were working on for the big day.

Though Claudia had wanted to be more involved, her new duties as caretaker prevented her appearance at many of their planning ‘meetings’. Whenever she spotted something she thought they would like though, she sent a photo or a link directly to Christina. As she insisted that the couple were the perfect living representation of steam-punk, she refused to be cut out of the process entirely. From place cards, invitations and party favours to designing her own outfit, the young redhead was determined to put her (approved) mark on the proceedings.

Myka opened up a folder with her favourite selections and sipped her coffee with a small smile tugging the corners of her mouth. During moments like this, she often had to pinch herself to check that she was awake. Marrying her soul mate, the woman who completed her - it was a fairy tale come true. How could it possibly be real? Yet, here she was, looking at colour swatches, fabrics and dress designs.

In the beginning, once she had officially allowed her eager relatives to begin planning, she hadn’t really been concerned with the details so long as, on the day of her wedding, her bride-to-be joined her at the altar. As time moved on and more people insisted on badgering her with their ideas though, Myka realised that she had to take more of a lead role, unless she wanted her hair full of flowers and her bridesmaids covered in pink frills.

As it turned out, she was pleasantly surprised by how much she was enjoying herself. A lot of the process involved research and scrapbooking anything that she took a liking to, both of which she could do from home. Of course, that also meant spending hours with Christina at the dining room table, searching for and cutting out images from magazines and organising their favourites; combining three of her favourite pastimes.

Helena spent a good portion of her day in her workshop. Since the move, she had been on a mission to turn their home into some kind of fortress. With Kevin’s help, she had excavated a tunnel under the garden and into the woods just within their property boundary. As she needed to keep the project as secret as possible, she was forced to do much of the work herself, which meant waiting until Kevin, Pete, Claudia or Steve were available to lend a hand. She found the pace of their progress frustratingly slow but since Myka wouldn’t allow her to partake in any construction singlehandedly, she had to find a way to deal with it.

Currently, the inventor was assisting Pete with a job for their redheaded friend. A ritual drinking horn, which Norse warriors once used before battle to give them courage, had made an appearance in Turkey. Considering the political unrest in that part of the world and the potential for misuse by future adversaries, Claudia had bypassed the usual channels and sent the information to the newest regents.

With Steve and Jason playing at tourists while they chased a sacrificial dagger through Peru, and Meghan having recently fallen off the grid, Myka and Helena had resorted to flipping a coin to see who would go with Pete. Though their positions within the organisation were supposed to be non-combative, there was always a risk that the mission could take a turn for the worse and force them to fight for their lives.

As Myka sat, savouring the calm before the daily storm of parenthood, she sent a prayer into the ether that her love was not in danger and would be home soon. She would know if anything untoward happened though; her engagement ring connected her to Helena more deeply every day. To a certain extent, it even gave her warning when the little ones were not at their best. The day Fredrick had pulled a basket of washing down on his own head and became trapped under the avalanche of damp towels, she had sensed his panic before hearing his cries from the next room.

As if knowing where her thoughts lingered, her phone let out a whimper, the ‘nanny’ app signalling movement from the nursery. After draining the dregs of her drink, Myka wandered back upstairs to her son’s room.

As she pushed the door open and stepped inside, her gaze fell on the cot and the little boy staring intently over the side. So many moments she cherished each day but this first glance at her little prince, with his alert eyes and happy grin, was one of her favourites.

“Hello, handsome,” she cooed as she approached the crib and reached down for the toddler. “Did we have a lovely night’s sleep?”

Anticipating his mother’s kiss, Fredrick leaned in; almost head butting the adult in the process. He grinned at her chuckle before turning his attention on the room and beginning to point at random objects with a questioning ‘ah?’

Myka dutifully answered each query with a noun and occasionally a sound or associative word. “Books... puzzle... train. Choo-choo!” She carried him over to the changing table and continued chatting as she quickly swapped his damp diaper for a dry one. Knowing that he would likely end up with breakfast all over his clothes anyway, she chose to leave them for now.

Hefting him into her arms once more, she continued to take inventory with her son as they wandered onto the landing. “... door...”

Fredrick’s excitement and volume increased outside his bedroom and he pointed emphatically at the room next to his. “Ah! Eena!”

Myka chuckled. “She’s not in there. Look...” She opened her daughter’s bedroom door to reveal its empty contents and then looked back at her son with an expression of exaggerated shock. “Where is she?”

Face frozen for a second in confusion, Fredrick appeared to think about the mystery of his missing sister. After a brief moment, he turned towards his parents’ room and pointed. “Ah?”

“I can’t pull the wool over your eyes, can I?” Myka noted as she bounced him on her hip and walked into her own room. She put her finger to her lips and pointed at the lump in the bed, and then set her son down.

Like a newborn giraffe walking for the first time, Fredrick wobbled his way across the duvet on all fours. The lump stirred and squeaked, followed by the appearance of two arms and then a head. The toddler paused, watched his sister’s face appear and then quickened his pace until he threw himself across her prone figure.

Myka reached for the phone in her pocket, snapped a picture and sent it to Helena before climbing in beside her children. She grinned at the giggles that exploded from her daughter and the excited babble from her son.

“Wake up, sleepy-head!” The regent teased as she prodded the covers to encourage more giggling.

“Eeby eb,” Fredrick repeated as he tried to crawl under the duvet with his sister.

Within seconds, all three of them were under the covers, the taller two creating a canopy with their head’s. Fredrick crawled into his mother’s lap and she immediately began to sing one of his favourite songs. Christina joined in and they rowed their boat all the way down the stream, keeping a vigilant eye out for crocodiles.

* * * * *

As predicted, breakfast involved much mess. Since it was the weekend, Myka and Christina decided that they should get the paints out and create a masterpiece - the mass clean up could be saved until later. The remainder of the morning involved a lot of broad interpretation and keeping Freddy’s fingers away from his mouth. By the time both children were bathed and clothed again, it was lunchtime and guests were at the door.

“Here, let me take that,” Myka offered as she ushered Lila into the house and relieved her of the huge diaper bag she was carrying. “Come on in. The partners in crime are in the playroom. We’ve just finished our art and craft portion of the day so lunch is running a bit late I’m afraid.”

Lila released part of her burden with a sigh of relief and a breathless ‘thanks’. “I never understood why parents needed to carry so much stuff just for one baby but, even with that entire bag; I still never seem to have everything I need.”

“Well, at least here, if you don’t have it, I probably will,” the brunette consoled her friend as she led them through the living room and into the back room, which looked out onto the garden through two large French-windows.

“Don’t worry about rushing with lunch on our account. Sophie decided to lie in this morning so we had a late breakfast.” The blonde settled her daughter on the floor next to Fredrick and his stacking cups before flopping into a seat.

Myka placed another tray of toys next to the toddlers and followed suit. “We haven’t long had a snack so I suppose it could wait half an hour or so. How’s she coming on with the baby-sign?”

“She loves it,” Lila beamed. “Whenever Aunty Jean comes round, she’s fascinated. I find it hard to keep up with the two of them. Can you imagine what they’ll be like when Soph’ is a precocious pre-teen?”

“I have a precocious pre-teen and there’s not a language she knows that Helena or I don’t, but she still manages to run rings around us sometimes.” Myka glanced down at the toddlers and felt a twinge of longing, both for a glimpse of her eldest at this early stage and a chance to have that tiny babe in arms again. “They grow up too fast.”

“Where is CJ? I normally have to undergo an inquisition before she’ll let me in the door,” she joked fondly.

“Upstairs,” the brunette nodded towards the ceiling. “She started reading The Hunger Games and once she gets going, she’s in a world of her own.”

“They’re quite gruesome, aren’t they?” Lila frowned with concern. “What about Harry Potter?”

“She devoured those in a few short weeks.” Myka frowned and bit her lip. “I was hesitant to let her start The Hunger Games but when I think back to me at her age, I was reading the likes of Frankenstein, Dracula and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Plus HG Wells,” she smiled the way she always did when she remembered how far back her love for her fiancée went. “Some of Helena’s stuff is quite dark. Christina’s nightmares don’t seem to be about Panem so I’m not too worried. It’s nice to see her getting lost in literature.”

“I suppose when you put it that way...” Lila fidgeted for a moment as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how, or perhaps whether she should.

Observant as ever, the regent noticed and studied her friend more closely. “Lila, is everything ok?”

The blonde started. “Yes, I’m fine,” she insisted quickly.

“But...?”

Blue eyes darted back and forth from green and teeth gnawed at her lower lip. “I know I should wait until Pete gets home but I just have to tell someone.” She gazed down at her daughter with a proud smile and a hand fell to her belly. “So, remember what you were saying about them growing up too fast...”

Catching on quickly, Myka’s borderline concern morphed into a wide grin. “Really? You’re pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant,” the blonde confirmed with a smile and what looked like nervous excitement.

They immediately fell into conversation about due dates, doctor’s appointments and their individual experiences of labour. All the while, in the back of Myka’s head, a little voice asked repeatedly whether she would like another of her own.

* * * * *

After a surprisingly trouble free grab in Turkey, Pete and Helena landed in New York for their connecting flight with an identical sense of relief. It was rare that either of them were called upon to venture out these days and, secretly, they had both worried about being a little rusty. It was one thing to be training in your own back garden, but quite another to be fighting off attackers in an unknown place with barely any idea of where the exit points were.

Needing to stretch their legs and having three hours to wait for the flight back to Denver, the unlikely pair wandered out of JFK and immediately pulled their coats tighter around their bodies. Though Turkey had been a little too dusty for their liking (particularly for Helena, who was reminded sharply of their misadventure in Egypt), it had been warm at least.

Winter was officially over, with March in full swing, but a frigid chill clung to the air and grey clouds muted what few spots of green had dared to brave the weather. People bustling about the streets did so with heads lowered and a no-nonsense pace, destinations in mind and even less time than usual to wander off course.

“So, how nervous are you about the wedding really, HG?” Pete asked as soon as they stopped for a bite to eat.

Helena glanced up from her sandwich, chewed for a moment as she stared at her colleague, and then wiped her mouth slowly with her napkin. “What makes you think that any part of me is the least bit nervous?” she challenged.

“Come on,” he countered around a mouthful of food. “You’re marrying _Myka,_ your dream bride, who happens to be a bit of a neurotic perfectionist.”

Inside, the inventor acknowledged some small measure of trepidation but she was determined not to let it show. “I assure you, I couldn’t be more content. After all, I only have to look presentable and arrive on time,” she explained, deliberately downplaying her role. “Which, let’s face it, shouldn’t be too taxing as we both know my penchant for punctuality and that Myka finds me irresistible. You have more to be concerned about I’d wager. I believe unintentional disasters are your forte. Should anything untoward happen, I think you are aware of who will be first in the line of fire.”

Pete gulped, almost choking as he swallowed a half-chewed morsel of steak and cheese. He failed to notice the mischievous twinkle behind the Brit’s gaze as his thoughts turned to the wedding and his position in it. Myka wouldn’t be too irked with him if he goofed up without meaning to, would she? “Oh, damn,” he cursed. “Think she’d miss me if I gave the job to Steve?”

Helena waved a hand nonchalantly in the air. “I’m sure she’d only murder you the once.”

“Comforting,” he bit back and then proceeded to take his feeling out on the rest of his lunch.

With the last leg of their journey remaining uneventful, the pair reached Denver right on schedule. Agent Lattimer’s self-conscious gorging on sweets soon made HG regret her teasing and, as she exited through the security gate, she was never more pleased to see her beautiful family.

Myka was the first to spot them, having the height advantage over most of the moderate crowd. She tapped Christina on the head and pointed for the youngster’s benefit. Her gaze locked on her fiancée and she barely glanced away, even as she tried to derail Fredrick’s attention from his need to escape and explore.

Myka felt a tightening in her throat and a prickling of tears behind her eyes as she bathed in this reunion with her soul mate. Warmth tingled along her arm from the metal on her finger but she was so used now to the link between her emotions and the accessory that she barely paid it any attention.

Finally, having spotted his Mummy, Freddy shrieked his delight and lurched forward. Two arms held him tightly until HG reached their little group and whipped him into her arms.  His chubby fists bunched around her hair and giggles erupted as kisses rained down on his face. Beside them, Christina threw herself at the inventor and grinned up into her mother’s tired eyes.

Pete passed them, heading for his own family, any concern he might have for weddings momentarily forgotten. Sophie was half-asleep on her mother’s shoulder and simply smiled around her pacifier as her daddy kissed her cheek and stroked through her hair.

Glad to swap loads, Lila settled the girl into Pete’s arms.

It was with a sense of contentment that Myka linked fingers through Helena’s and took Christina’s hand with her free one. Her daughter had insisted on holding the weary traveller’s carry-on bag and, even though Helena tried to pack lightly, she hunched slightly under the weight of it.

Farewells in the car park tested the inventor’s patience somewhat and, rather than snap at her little princess for her interrogation of Pete and his gastronomic habits, Helena hefted Fredrick onto her other hip and strolled along a footpath to where a short wall surrounded a flower bed. After inspecting the cleanliness of the surface, she perched on the edge and set her son on his feet.

“Owa, Mummy,” Freddy declared, pointing to the leafy evergreens.

“Not quite yet, my darling,” she responded, smiling at his indignant frown. Didn’t she know a flower when she saw one? “They’re bushes,” she elaborated, indicating the size of the plant before pointing to a small off shoot. “With leaves.”

“Weav?”

“Yes, Munchkin, leaves,” Helena praised him.

She pulled him into her lap and began chatting with her son about dirt and bugs, sunshine and rain, and thought back to similar conversations she and Christina had had in the garden of their home in London. Some days, it seemed like such a long time ago, another lifetime. Other days it was like yesterday and she could hardly fathom how she had come to be the mother of this beautiful boy as well as her precious angel.

Pete’s words from earlier in the day drifted back to her and she began to consider them anew. Was she nervous at all about her ‘big day’? Perhaps a little. She wanted everything to go off without a hitch and for her family to enjoy themselves but, mostly, she viewed the ceremony as a pleasant way to show everyone else what she already knew – she and Myka belonged together.

She was looking forward to being able to call Myka her wife and, surprisingly, to changing her name. Since the American had given birth to their son, his surname was different to his sister’s. Once she and Myka tied the knot, they would be a family on paper too, and signing her name as Helena Bering-Wells was a skill she had been perfecting for some time now.

 


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family cuteness, Pete antics, the ring takes control, and Claudia's up to something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you for the enthusiastic 'welcome back'. Though always a little nervous, I love starting to post a new part of the story. That's all due to the wonderful reviews from readers!

On an island, secluded somewhere in the Mediterranean sea, the Warehouse’s newest caretaker strutted into the conference room and zeroed in on the teen at the table. “How is our newest resident?” she asked cheerfully as she fell into the chair next to him and twirled around for good measure.

Ice-blue eyes gazed up through a lock of floppy blonde hair and blinked nervously before he stumbled through his greeting, “Ok. I mean, I’m good... No, great. A bit lost. Not now though ‘cause I know where I am now but...” He stopped abruptly and flushed before mumbling, “I got lost.”

“No worries, Kid,” Claudia smiled at her young protégé. “This is your home now. You’ll soon know every corner of this place. There’s lots to explore and you know where the canteen is, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied dutifully, eager to impress. “And I’ve been making a map, for future reference. I can be useful, Miss Donovan.”

“Kid, we didn’t pick you up just to kick you out. We have plans for you and they don’t include Dr Evil getting his hands on you.” Claudia relaxed back into her chair and swivelled slightly back and forth as she observed the boy closely.

Thomas. She remembered seeing him stepping out of a portal with Pete, his eyes wide with excitement and anxious anticipation for what might happen next. He’d had the gangly appearance of someone beginning a growth spurt and she had immediately understood why Myka asked that they keep a close eye on him, to make sure that he was taken care of. He had been pivotal to solving the puzzle with the agent trapped in Limbo and, in hindsight, it had been a lucky turn of events that he happened to know young Christina Wells.

Perhaps more than lucky. Fated even?

Claudia had logged the details of all individuals rescued from the cartouche and had written a program to flag up any concerns. For the few children they’d rescued, she had fingers in the system or with their reunited families and on the whole, nothing untoward had appeared.

However, one individual had pinged on her radar time and again.

Christina’s forgotten friend had jumped from place to place for a while as they tried to find his family. When that task proved to be a bust, he was placed with a young couple for a time, until he disappeared; assumed by authorities to have run away. When found, he was adamant that he hadn’t intended to go anywhere but couldn’t explain precisely what had happened to him. He was given a few extra counselling sessions and moved to a new family. After the fourth repetition of this incident, he was placed with a boys group home where no one really batted an eye at the reality of runaways.

At the Warehouse however, Claudia continued to track him. A year and several unexplained disappearances later, she, Irene and Mr Kosan all agreed that they needed to take a more active role in his life. Since then, Jane Lattimer had taken him in and he was watched night and day. During the day, he appeared happy, if a bit wary of his situation after having moved around so much. At the moon’s zenith however, he slithered from his bed and wandered around his room, testing the windows and door, searching for an exit. The hidden camera on his bookshelf recorded every moment and, in time, displayed a curious pattern.

They had planned to let him finish school before bringing him into the fold; he didn’t appear to be a danger to himself in his waking moments, but once a lurking figure was seen watching him, Claudia insisted that she be allowed to take him home with her.

So here they were, two and a half years after his rescue from an artefact. Now just turned fifteen, the lad had exploded out of his childhood body and currently threatened to overtake his mentor.

“So, barring any bat-signals, I have set aside the entire day to be your guide to Wonderland.” The redhead jumped up and gestured towards the door. “Better get started, Tommy. This place has more rabbit holes than Beatrix Potter’s back yard.”

* * * * *

Rhythmic clanking penetrated through Helena’s subconscious, into the peace of her dream. _So much for an extra hour of sleep,_ she thought to herself as she fell into reality and rolled onto her back.

“Mummy pay,” Fredrick’s excited voice tumbled into the room, followed by the sound of his feet hitting the carpet in quick succession and something dragging behind him.

“Freddy, baby no.” Quick, light steps followed the boy into his parents’ bedroom and stopped him before he could reach for the bed. “Mummy’s sleeping. She’ll play later.”

“No,” he complained. “Wight,” he insisted as he pointed to the sunshine peeking passed the curtains.

“I know,” Myka whispered as she picked him up. “But Mummy’s tired, she needs to nap a bit longer.”

“No nap,” he pouted.

Helena smiled to herself and pushed up onto her elbows. “It’s alright, Myka. I’m awake.” She was so warmed by the expression of pure joy on her son’s face, her weariness from the previous day melted away, leaving behind the simple contentment of being home.

The brunette shook her head as her mouth pulled up at the corner. “I thought after spending three days with Pete, you’d have developed the ability to block out external sound.”

As her fiancée perched on the edge of the bed and let Fredrick run free, Helena ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed sleep from her eyes. “Well it wasn’t for a lack of trying, darling. He certainly has a talent for filling a thoughtful silence with nonsensical blather.” She sat up and pulled Fredrick against her torso as he climbed into her lap. Myka dropped toys onto the bed and leant in to kiss her good morning. She sighed against her fiancée’s lips and then, as she pulled away, began to arrange the toys along the bedspread, making them walk about. “Good morning, Mr Postman. The weather’s jolly fine isn’t it,” she said as a plastic, fuzzy racoon bobbed up and down on the toddler’s knee. “Do you have any letters for me today?”

Myka chuckled and picked up another character: a rabbit in a dress. “What about me? It’s my birthday.”

Freddy giggled, his face angled towards his parents, eyes bright with joy as he waited for one of them to speak next. “Ah!” he exclaimed, pointing emphatically at the badger.

Helena quickly became engrossed with their game and, for a time, failed to notice the intense gaze that watched her closely. It was only when her son complained that the rabbit was slacking in her duties that she became aware of Myka’s distraction. “I think Rebecca Rabbit has fallen asleep,” she theorised and then suggested, “Perhaps you had better wake her.”

Fredrick took his cue and landed a horse with uncanny accuracy on top of the plastic rabbit’s head. At his Mama’s startled squeak, he chuckled cheekily and grinned up at her with rapt attention, waiting for her response.

The brunette’s surprised expression lingered for a moment before a smile broke through. “Did you just whack me with a horse!?”

“Wabbi eeby,” Freddy explained in his own defence and then proceeded to nudge said creature with his wild stallion.

“Alright, alright,” Myka conceded as she pulled her character to safety. “I’m awake. That’s enough horsing about.” She grinned at her own joke and then chuckled at her fiancée’s snort of amusement.

After lounging about on the bed for another half an hour, the adults began to tire of the repetition and decided to call an end to the game. Myka gathered Fredrick and as many plastic animals as she could carry and left Helena to freshen herself up, ready for the rest of the day.

A steaming cup of tea waited for the inventor when she eventually made her way downstairs and found most of her family in the kitchen. “Where’s Christina?” she asked over the sound of a wooden spoon hitting plastic containers.

“Next door,” Myka replied around her mug of coffee. “With Jamie and Zahrah.” She recalled the conversation she’d had with her neighbours the previous day and quickly began to relate the particulars. “I had coffee with their mothers yesterday and we talked about how difficult it is to find time away from the kids. Nadia and Paula suggested that we could do a round robin of sleepovers over the next few weeks. We were thinking about Jamie’s this weekend, ours next and Zahrah’s the weekend after.” She leant her elbows on the worktop and gazed up at her fiancée through her lashes. “That gives us two Saturdays with just the little drummer boy over there. I thought we could offer to have Sophie tomorrow night and see if Pete and Lila would mind returning the favour in a couple of weeks.”

“Leaving us with at least twenty four hours to spend in bed?” Helena concluded, her gaze instantly wandering over her fiancée.

Myka chuckled. “That’s one option. And certainly an attractive one, but I was thinking we could take a day trip somewhere. What do you think?”

Placing her cup gently on the counter, the inventor rounded the island and pulled her partner flush against her. Her hands lingered on two hips before travelling to the small of her lover’s back and resting there. “Are we thinking of a pampering day, an adventure or a day of museums and culture?”

“I would do all of the above but I think we’re going to have to wait until our honeymoon to fit it all in,” she considered. “Once we’re alone, I thought we could just have a leisurely day. Go for brunch, take a drive down to one of the lakes if it’s nice out, do a bit of shopping maybe. Just play it by ear and spend a day being Helena and Myka.”

“As opposed to Mummy and Mama,” HG concluded with a nod. “And you’re comfortable with the idea of... winging it?” she added knowingly.

“I can be spontaneous,” the brunette insisted, her hands winding around her partner’s neck as she leant in to brush a kiss against the corner of an upturned mouth. She had learned to loosen up over the years but spontaneity was not second nature to her.

“I know, darling. I have fond memories of every occasion that you threw caution to the wind. However, I know that you enjoy planning. You rest easier when you know what to expect and I have no qualms around your compulsive nature.” Dark eyes fell into green, searching for any hint of unease. “Do not vex yourself on my behalf, love.”

“I won’t,” Myka assured her. She kissed Helena soundly, lingering just long enough for the tip of her tongue to taste a lingering trace of toothpaste. She didn’t care that their drinks were getting cold or that there was a long list of household jobs on the fridge that they had yet to start. This moment was reserved for them, to remind them of the simple pleasures that they would spend their lives protecting.

She eventually leant back and turned to look at their son, who had abandoned his container in favour of the tiled floor. “I love our life together. I couldn’t be happier with where my life has taken me.” She felt her fiancée’s arms wind tighter around her and tilted her head against a yielding shoulder. “We’ve never really had a chance to do all of those ‘getting to know you’ dates though, have we?”

“I suppose not,” the inventor agreed. “We progressed from friendly colleagues to lovers rather rapidly. Christina brought us back together but everything in between was somewhat awkward thanks for the most part to me.”

“I’m not portioning blame. Our past got us here so I wouldn’t change it. I don’t see why we can’t try to capture some of those missed moments though,” Myka reasoned. “We’ll be married before long and I’d like look back on our pre-marital life and remember a time when the two of us held hands around the park and stole kisses between thoughts.”

Helena gazed into her fiancée’s intense stare and marvelled at the fathomless love she found there. “Not that I’m complaining, but what brought this on?”

Myka’s eyes flicked to one side and a blush crept along her cheeks, the change in her demeanour serving to further confuse the inventor. “I’ve been thinking about the possibility of extending our family,” she confessed quietly and glanced over at their son.

HG’s expression froze for the briefest moment before a smile tugged at her mouth. “I seem to recall someone declaring quite emphatically that they never again wanted to become pregnant.” She chuckled lightly as the younger woman’s blush intensified. “Unless of course, you were imagining someone else carrying this additional offspring?” she teased.

Feeling relieved at the inventor’s joking, Myka rolled her eyes. “I would never ask you to do something that I wasn’t prepared to do myself, but the details can be worked out later. I think the more pressing question is: do you want another child with me?”

HG smirked, mischief appearing in her eyes. “Should we put the boy to bed and try right now?”

Myka smacked the inventor’s shoulder and tutted. “Behave,” she admonished through a renewed flush, and then after a moment added, “Really? Do you think we should try?”

Helena looked at the hope and excitement on her beloved’s face and knew immediately that they both wanted the same thing. “We should do some research first: explore our options. If you simply wish to know whether I am willing however, then wonder no further, love: the thought has occurred to me also. Often enough that I’m certain we’re ready.”

* * * * *

Sunday afternoon saw the entire Bering and Wells family at Pete and Lila’s apartment, eating pizza and celebrating the hosting couple’s exciting news. Christina ate as daintily as she could manage while mozzarella fell from her mouth in long ropey pieces, while her sibling and his friend appeared like wolf cubs as they growled, eyes challenging over every mouthful. At home, Fredrick was usually the epitome of a gentleman (for his tender years) and mealtime was a leisurely affair, but around Sophie, he often channelled his inner animal.

Myka, of course, blamed Pete for this. “Freddy, slow down and chew your food,” the regent pleaded with her son, fearing that he would choke if he continued to push pizza into his mouth at such a rate of knots. She watched as Lila attempted the same plea with her daughter but to no avail.

“It appears a hopeless task, love,” Helena soothed from beside her fiancée, her eyes avoiding the boy’s only present male role-model.

Over the last couple of years, she had learned to relax some of her instilled rules around etiquette and table manners. There was a line that she wouldn’t cross but in some circumstances, like around their close friends and family, she was increasingly less offended by her children indulging their messier sides. Had it been only Pete’s influence, she might not have come so far, but her surrogate niece was adorable and she quickly realised that there was benefit to abandoning some of her mother’s early lessons on class and superiority. She made sure to gently coax a more reserved approach out of Sophie whenever her father wasn’t around though. There was no harm in encouraging balance.

“They’re good, Mykes,” Pete waved off his friend’s concern, thankfully having sense to swallow before attempting to talk this time. “This is how pizza is supposed to be eaten.”

Lila tried to hide a smile as she shook her head at her boyfriend. “You might try to teach our daughter how to pace herself though. Some days I wonder how I didn’t give birth to a litter of cubs.”

“You love the animal in me,” Lattimer replied. “Aoowwww!” he yowled.

As both toddlers grinned and mimicked the howl, three mothers suppressed simultaneous groans of exasperation and returned to their meals. Experience had taught them that when Pete was around, some behaviours were impossible to curb. For Lila, this was a daily burden to bear.

“I don’t know why I agreed to reproduce with you again,” the blonde grumbled playfully. “I could have picked up a stray from the pound and avoided the whole rigmarole of growing my own.”

“You’re just powerless in the face of all this,” Pete countered as he gestured to his manly physique.

Christina grinned around her last slice of Hawaiian as she watched the banter across the table. Meal times were vastly different from the distant memories she had of her life in London. At home, the atmosphere around the table was often chatty and relaxed but with the Lattimer household, it was chaos. Uncle Pete liked to pull faces, joke and laugh. He was always incredibly hungry and shovelled his food into his mouth with abandon. It was usually noisy and she knew that her Mum despaired at the whole event but Christina secretly loved it.

Her grandmother would have fainted with shock, and the thought of Genevieve’s expression brought a broad smile to her face. She wasn’t the kind of person who wished anybody ill but grandma Wells had always made her feel uneasy and not one part of her missed the stern woman like she did with other relatives.

Once they had finished eating and Christina had helped to clear the table, she played with her brother and Sophie while the adults remained at the table and chatted. It wasn’t long before she was bored though and asked if she could have her Mama’s tablet to play with. With the device in hand, she took herself out onto the balcony to Skype with Adelaide.

Around the dining room table, which overlooked the area where the two toddlers were happily playing, the conversation turned to Pete and Helena’s mission in Turkey.

“Do we know why Claudia asked you guys to do this and not the new crew? I’m not sure I can see why _this_ artefact is any more dangerous or useful than others they’ve captured recently. I mean, what about the parchment that poisoned anyone who touched it? Surely _that_ is more of a threat to us in the wrong hands.” Lila shook her head, her voice low as she considered what they might have to face one day.

Since the Warehouse’s move, the new caretaker had kept her friends up to date with every new addition to the inventory. With Myka’s eidetic memory, they didn’t have to concern themselves with hiding valuable information but they did have to appear to be living regular, civilian lives, completely separate to their supposedly former occupations.

“Claudia must calculate every risk,” HG began to hypothesise. “The Warehouse must be seen to be operating within normal parameters. That includes the expected yield of artefacts.”

Myka nodded along in agreement with her partner. “If business drops too rapidly, the other regents will catch wind and they might begin to suspect our continued involvement in their affairs. We have to assume that they’re watching us.”

“I didn’t spend half a day shopping with ‘Miss Nothing-Is-Good-Enough-for-My-Love Wells just for my own amusement,” Pete complained, thinking back to the hours he and Helena had wandered around the heaving market place in Istanbul, pretending to be simple tourists.

Lila flushed, feeling like the outsider that she was. “I know,” she huffed. “But do any of you know how she’s selecting these artefacts or why? Have you even asked her?” They were silent long enough that any offence she’d taken fizzled away. “Where is she keeping them?”

“We don’t know,” Myka admitted after an uncomfortable silence. “Lila, I’m sorry, none of us meant to undermine your concerns or questions, we’re just used to working in the dark while we investigate and piece things together.”

“Babe, we’re not ignoring all the flashing blue lights,” Pete tried to console his girlfriend. “But Claudia’s family, we trust her.”

“None of us enjoy the position we are in or the implications that our fates are not our own, least of all myself,” Helena added her own thoughts to the mix. There were no perfect solutions. The caretaker’s island fortress seemed like the preferable vault for anything that they wanted far from unworthy hands, including her own frozen child. “Trust can be a precarious state but I believe that Claudia is in the best position to coordinate our efforts without revealing too much to any one party. We have to accept the fact that we could also become vulnerable to manipulation, whether or not we are willing.”

Myka watched some of the colour drain from the blonde’s face and reached a hand over to comfort her. “We are in no immediate danger, Lila. Believe me, if we were, none of us would be satisfied with wedding plans or pizza parties. If the last few years have taught me anything, it’s that we have to live, not just survive.”

Lila sighed deeply and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know all this already.” She placed a hand over her abdomen and glanced down. “I guess it just became real again. You’re seriously not worried?” she asked, mostly staring down the two regents.

Myka reached for Helena’s hand and squeezed it. “No, I’m not worried. Not yet anyway,” she amended after a beat. “There may be dark days ahead, but we have time to prepare and we will be ready.” Her tone was steady and confident, an air of certainty surrounding the ex-agent, as if a hand reached across the eons to guide her thoughts.

Helena caught her fiancée’s eye and felt that same conviction filling her too. “We will not allow this threat to harm your family, Lila. Nor our own. Claudia knows what she is doing and will have all the information we require the moment it becomes necessary.”

From the regents’ joined hands, a wave of energy emerged. It dispersed through the air, invisible to the naked eye, and saturated the room. Thoughts that were previously building with panic began to calm and the atmosphere returned to the pleasant warmth that had accompanied their meal.

Lila took a deep breath, stroked a thumb over her soon-to-be bump and sighed a smile. “Alright then. If you’re sure then I’ll accept that. Now, how _are_ those wedding plans coming along?”

* * * * *

“Is this place really called Wonderland?” Thomas asked as he chomped through his burger enthusiastically.

They’d spent the last four hours exploring and he was both ravenous and overwhelmed. The facility was huge, self-sustaining, heavily guarded and full of the kind of things that would make any kid wet them self with excitement. Obstacle courses, an Olympic sized swimming pool, science laboratories, virtual reality imaging software, a seemingly inexhaustible supply of research equipment and the comfiest looking dorm-room he’d ever imagined.

“I was thinking of something like Camelot. So we could be like the Knights of the Round Table, you know?” She picked at the fries on his plate, waving one back and forth as she spoke. “But I thought Wonderland sounded cooler. Despite the uncomfortable associations with madness,” she muttered to herself.

“As long as the Queen of Hearts isn’t here,” he said around his food. “I like my head.”

“You probably want to keep your heart too,” Claudia added and then waved off her young friend’s confusion. “Never mind. I have to cut down on my Netflix marathons. Do you like it though?”

“Are you kidding me!?”He all but shouted. “I’m almost glad some creepy person was stalking me: this place is awesome!”

Claudia chuckled but her expression soon softened and turned serious. “I’m glad you like it, kid. You’re special and I’m gonna make sure no one hurts you while you’re here.”

Taking his hint from the tone of her voice, he swallowed thickly. “While I’m here?”

“Until you come of age, you have to stay on this island. I’m responsible for you now and it’s the only way I can guarantee your safety.” She shoved another fry into her mouth and winced when she realised that it was stone cold. “When you’re old enough, you’ll be given the option to leave, if you want to. Once you step off this island though, you’ll be vulnerable. Do you understand?”

“But you’re not going to make me leave?” he wondered, an uncomfortable churning beginning in the region of his stomach.

“You can stay as long as you like,” she reassured him. “But I think there will come a time when even comfy apartments and endless toys are no match for friends and freedom. We can cross that bridge when we come to it though, and hope there are no trolls under there,” the techie joked as she turned in her chair and stood up. “Well, kid, it’s been a blast. Lessons won’t start until Monday so you’ve got today and the weekend to do some exploring and settle in. I know it’s kinda sleepy round here at the moment, but we have other peeps arriving after the weekend, so you won’t be alone for much longer.”

Thomas nodded as he pushed his empty plate away (the cold fries hadn’t bothered him so much). His nerves were beginning to kick in again but the last thing he wanted to do was show it. “I think I’m gonna head back to the archery range,” he told her with forced bravado.

Claudia slid into her jacket, smiled knowingly and pushed her hands into her pockets. “Don’t go poking an eye out Mr Hood. I’m the only one who’s allowed to channel Nick Fury around here. Just remember there’s the simulator if Archie isn’t out on the range.”

“Is that her real name?” Tom wondered abruptly, thinking it was entirely too coincidental that the instructor was named for the sport she had mastered. When his mentor simply gave him a sidelong glance and a raised eyebrow, he realised that it was just her way of making the archer feel at home. He briefly considered what she might end up calling him. “Sims don’t compare to the real thing, but it’s kinda cool anyway.”

She winked at him as she rocked on her heels. “I gotta go, kid,” she announced. “Got a couple of legends to reanimate and they’re gonna need some serious orientation.”

She glanced behind his head, gazing for a moment out of the window at the decorative fountain in the peace garden. It was empty now but their team was slowly growing. Before long, the facility would be teeming with life, soldiers in the making, preparing for the big show down.

Thomas followed the caretaker’s gaze and wondered what was going on behind her intense stare. By the time he looked back at her to ask if she was ok though, the young woman was gone.

* * * * *

Claudia whistled as she wandered the aisles of the Warehouse, set on a particular destination. Everything appeared as she had always known it but the absence of her friends was not subtle enough for the young caretaker to ignore. New bodies and voices filled the spaces, and while they were pleasant enough, they were not _her_ crew. She took care of them, guided them and tried to channel enough of the previous caretaker to fulfil her responsibilities, but beyond that, she had her own mission.

Her footsteps brought her to a large metal shutter, reminiscent of the entrance to the ‘Pete Cave’. With a thought, the aperture opened and the sanctuary welcomed its master inside. Excitement skittered up the redhead’s spine as she skipped around a shelf and sidled up to a dusty, old crate. On close inspection, hinges lined both sides of the lid with no opening in sight, but as the caretaker pressed a palm to its centre, the surface shimmered and a lock appeared along the front lip.

Claudia reached into the front of her jacket and pulled out an oddly shaped key. Its handle twisted like the trunk of a tree and the lock-end nothing but a blank plain; it seemed useless for the task ahead. As she approached the chest with the item though, it sprang to life; the metal folded in on itself, pushing and pulling every which way until the appropriate wards appeared.

Offering her newly made key up to its lock, the redhead turned it and listened as the levers inside moved the corresponding amount to release the catch. Satisfied by the audible click, she removed her tool and watched, fascinated as it reverted to its former ‘useless’ state before placing it back in her jacket.

A lumpy piece of cloth lying on the bottom of the chest, amidst nothing but darkness, might have disappointed anyone else, but Claudia plucked it from its home with a grin and held it reverently in her palm.

Beneath the fabric was a stone, roughly the size of a golf ball but misshapen – bulbous on one side and elongated on the other. The pink blush hue marked it quite clearly as rose quartz and its smooth surface hinted at centuries of handling by countless individuals.

“The time has come, caloo calay,” Claudia muttered to herself. She wrapped the stone back in the cloth and slipped it into her pocket with the key. After closing the lid of the chest and watching the lock revert to a row of hinges, she strolled back through the inventory of the Warehouse, soaking up the energy before she disappeared entirely.

 


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your lovely kudos!

“I’m definitely not ready to have another one yet,” Tracy commented after hearing that her sister and Helena were looking to try and get pregnant. “I mean, I think I’d like a baby brother or sister for Danny but Kev and I are so busy these days, I don’t know how I’d cope.”

Myka frowned as she thought about her little sister’s workload. “You know, if Helena’s putting too much pressure on Kevin to get her project finished, just let me know. I’ll talk to her.”

Tracy waved the concerns away with a flick of her wrist. She ushered her sister towards another area of the department store and began pulling items off the racks to shove them into the now blushing regent’s arms. “His best work days are the ones he spends with your fiancée. If she wasn’t so obviously head over heels for you, I’d worry. Besides, it’s for your safety. We’ll all be happy once it’s finished.” She lowered her voice slightly as she turned to face the older woman. “I know last time wasn’t planned but do you think you’ll be going down the same route? Would you even be able to get access to the same... equipment?”

The ex-agent pictured the incident with Pete and Inanna for a moment and considered the likelihood that she would be allowed to use the artefact again. “I don’t know yet and probably not through official channels,” she answered both questions after checking that nobody was watching them. “We’ll talk to the right people and see what’s possible. Nothing is going to happen until after the wedding though.” She looked down at the scant garments in her arms and had a sudden urge to be elsewhere. “Speaking of which: can we get this over with? I don’t want to spend more time here than I have to.”

Rolling her eyes, the younger sibling muttered under her breath, “It’s a wonder you have any kids at all.”

Myka flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and offence at the slight dig. “I’m not a prude,” she insisted. “I just like to keep my private affairs private. It’s not as if I’ve never bought anything racy. I just usually shop online. It makes no difference to Helena _where_ I buy my underwear,” she hissed.

“Fine, fine,” Tracy gave in. She removed her selection from the regent’s arms and placed them randomly back on the rails. Before her sister could attempt to reorganise the rejects, she grabbed the taller woman’s hand and led her towards yet another section of clothing. “I’m not leaving if you don’t buy something today though. If I can’t convince you to get some scandalous lingerie, I’ll settle for some nightwear. And NO flannel pyjamas!”

Myka agreed to the terms, already feeling more in her element surrounded by enough body length clothing that she didn’t feel naked standing next to the occasional silk and lace chemise.

Once Tracy was satisfied that her sister wasn’t going to spend her honeymoon garbed in a baggy t-shirt and lounge pants, she allowed Myka to make her purchases and dragged them to the nearest bistro for lunch.

Glad to be done with the worst part of their shopping expedition, Myka tucked her shopping bag between her feet and began to enjoy the time she had with her only sibling. They had returned to their hometown to visit with their parents and take a trip down memory lane. Although the paths they walked were the same, their experiences were very different and stories shared gave each of the sisters a deeper understanding of the other.

Having assumed that the ever popular Tracy Bering had it easy in every social situation, Myka was appalled to discover that her little sister was terrorised for an entire term by a lad in her form, who took a liking to her and didn’t want to take ‘no’ for an answer. She remembered the kid; she’d seen him at the shop on occasion and felt sorry for him and his obvious crush. Had she known then that he attempted to assault Tracy one night after she’d been to the movies with her friends, she would have lashed him with her foil until he bled. For once, Myka was immensely glad that the younger woman had had so many friends. She hated to think what might have happened had half of the football team not been passing that night.

“Did you ever tell Mom and Dad?” Myka wanted to know as they drove back to the bookshop a couple of hours later.

Tracy shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal, but her eyes had hardened. “You know what their reaction would have been like. I valued my social life. I’d have gone mad, locked away with no one but you and a thousand books.” She glanced at her elder sibling and her gaze softened. “No offence, Myka. I just knew they’d never let me out again. Either that or they’d have forced you to chaperone me everywhere. Neither of those options appealed to me and you’d have been miserable too.”

“Weren’t you scared?”

“Sure. But I made sure that I was never alone after that. York and his buddies took it upon themselves to ‘teach him a lesson’ and they took turns guarding me.” She scoffed at the memory. “If anything, it did wonders for my image. It must have looked like I was royalty with so many big guys following me around.”

Those words might have annoyed Myka once upon a time, but now she could hear the underlying depreciation in the younger woman’s voice and it sent a surge of protectiveness along her nerves. “I’ll ask Claudia to look him up. I’d like to know where he is.”

A painstakingly shaped eyebrow rose in surprise as Tracy turned sharply in the passenger seat. “Myka, leave it alone. It was years ago, he’s long gone.”

“Trace, he was obsessed with you for months, possibly even years.” Her hands gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. She paused a beat and released a long breath. “I’m not going to do anything to him. It won’t hurt to check though.”

Mrs Littlewood rolled her eyes. She’d been doing that a lot today. Thoughts of her temporary stalker hadn’t bothered her for years and she wasn’t about to start dwelling on them again. Some ghosts were best left in the dark. If Myka wanted to settle her own mind though, she wouldn’t stop her. “Fine, do your creepy Big Brother thing.”

The regent chuckled at her passenger’s attitude, the sound serving to break some of the accumulated tension. “Big Sister,” she corrected.

With it being a Sunday, the bookshop was closed to the public and the two siblings had to unlock the door as they let themselves in. After securing the front of the shop, they followed the faint sounds of life up the stairs and found their children and parents congregated in the living room.

Stretched out on the couch were two slumbering boys, their cherub-like faces innocent as they slept, hiding any notion of the chaos they might have created. The mere fact that they were not fighting over cars or chasing one another around was evidence enough though. Not to mention the sight of Warren Bering passed out in his armchair.

Myka spotted her daughter curled up with her mother and a book on the opposite couch and made her way towards them. “I guess you’ve had a busy morning,” she observed through an amused smile. “Bet Dad’s not so disappointed that he had girls now,” she joked.

Jeannie glanced over at her husband and chuckled quietly. “You had your moments,” she told her daughters. “But no, you weren’t as energetic as those two,” she nodded fondly towards the boys who had passed out mid-play. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Did you buy anything interesting?” Christina added with an extra a spark of hope in her gaze that her mother might have bought something extra for her.

Tracy opened her mouth to tease her sister about her aversion to publicly admiring anything remotely sexy but stopped at the hard look she received. “We had fun buying birthday presents for my niece and nephew,” she amended.

“Really?” Christina jumped, her excited tone drawing a louder snore from her grandfather.

“Yes,” Myka confirmed. “But since your birthday is still a couple of months away, you’ll have to exercise some patience.” Noting the slight pout, the regent smiled and shook her head. “If you want to choose something from downstairs however, I’m more than happy to indulge you.”

The ten year old appeared to think about it before cocking her head to one side. “Can Aunt Tracy help me to choose?”

The regent looked at her sister, who seemed pleasantly surprised by the request. “Sure, why not.” She watched as the girl slid off the couch, linked hands with her aunt and began tugging her back towards the stairs.

As they reached the doorway, Tracy winked at Myka. “Don’t worry, sis. I’ll steer her away from the bodice-rippers.”

“You’ll spoil her,” Jeannie warned her eldest once the room became quiet again.

Myka nodded and sighed. “I can’t help it. I missed the first eight years of her life. Sometimes I feel like I have to put in extra effort to make up for that.”

The older woman squeezed her daughter’s hand in sympathy. “I understand, Myka, and I know that you also think about her difficult future. Giving her everything she wants won’t make any of that easier though.”

“I know.” A thoughtful silence fell on the room as the brunette considered the times she struggled to say no to her kind, caring daughter. She wasn’t quite as bad as Helena though, and she just hoped that the other lessons they attempted to instil in their little princess went a ways to balancing out the occasions that she went overboard with her indulgences. “You can never have too many books though,” she eventually joked.

Jeannie chuckled. “I suppose I can’t disagree with that.”

* * * * *

Feeling rested from their shared nap, Daniel and Fredrick managed to stay awake during the entire return trip to Boulder. Christina cheerfully conducted every game and sing-along until the car pulled into their driveway. As soon as the engine quieted and the adults began to disembark, she unbuckled and scrambled through the partition, jumping over the passenger side seat to free herself from the vehicle. Her Mama’s protests about feet on the seats followed her as she grabbed the most bags she could carry and made a beeline for the front door.

Dumping her cargo in the living room, the ten-year-old secured her back-pack on her shoulders and breezed through the house, her tree-of-solitude at the forefront of her mind. She paused by the basement stairs to shout a quick ‘Hi, Mum!’ before exiting through the kitchen door, out into the garden.

Myka and Tracy entered just in time to see the whirlwind whizz away and each looked at the other with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t look at me,” Tracy chuckled. “When two bookworms breed...”

Myka rolled her eyes. Later, she would have a word with her daughter about her manners, but secretly she was proud and amused by the girl’s enthusiasm and single-mindedness when it came to cracking open a new book. With a family that revered the written word, was it any wonder that the pre-teen displayed such traits?

A distant sound of movement came from the basement door and by the time the Bering sisters had their sons settled in the playroom, their significant others had appeared above ground, both of them sweaty and dirt smudged.

Myka took one look at her fiancée and did a double take.

Inky hair fell in messy tendrils from the inventor’s ponytail, the strands clinging to damp skin and accentuating the length of a sinuous neck. A smear of dirt sat high on a collarbone, drawing ravenous green eyes to the hills and valleys hidden beneath a skin-tight grey t-shirt. _Work clothes should not look so good_ , the regent thought as she tried to ignore the sudden pull in her lower regions.

Helena and Kevin were still engrossed in conversation when they wandered in and didn’t focus on the returning pair for several seconds.

It took an elbow to her ribs to drag Myka from the fantasy beginning take root in her mind and she turned to her sister with an expression that was trapped somewhere between grateful and murderous. She watched a smirk climb over the younger woman’s features and felt trepidation clamber through a forest of thought. Holding her breath, almost certain of the teasing heading her way, Myka waited. Yet, when Tracy opened her mouth, it wasn’t to laugh or ridicule...

“Sounds like you’re making good progress down there. Is it ready for visitors yet?”

HG grinned smugly as she thought about the project and how far they’d come. “Would you like a tour? We finished the shell and the supports today, so it’s quite safe.”

“I think I’ll wait ‘til it’s finished, but I know Myka can’t wait to see how you put your skills to work.” Tracy’s expression was so earnest, so innocent, that no one thought more to the undercurrent in her words besides her sister.

Kevin fished a cloth out of his pocket and began wiping his hands as he watched the boys play, none the wiser to the sharp flow of energy in the room, while Helena frowned as if searching for some hidden meaning, before she let it go and gestured for her fellow regent to follow her.

Myka let her partner talk all about the construction as she followed the Victorian down to the basement and through the tunnel, knowing at the same time that she was only half paying attention. Meanwhile, her mind debated over the question of whether or not she was actually going to take the opportunity to seduce her lover even as she was aware that her sister had set it up.

As they walked, she couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering over the inventor’s figure, her mind appreciating the sight of Helena’s rear in a pair of fitted cargo pants. She thought back to the ‘Lara Croft’ outfit that she’d admired during their time at Warehouse 2 and began to wonder if she could convince the woman to have another go at dressing up as a fashionable British archaeologist. Feeling her throat run dry, she tried to swallow, her tongue reaching out to wet equally deprived lips.

By the time they came to a halt, she estimated that they’d walked almost the entire length of the property and low-and-behold, in front of them was a ladder leading up to a trapdoor. She looked at the Brit to find shrewd eyes scrutinising her and had to rewind to recall what had been said.

“I think an emergency supply room is a good idea,” she answered quickly, though from the way Helena held herself, arms crossed over her chest, she knew her partner was not buying her act.

HG glanced down at her shoes to hide her amusement as she thought back to Tracy’s words and the startled look in her fiancée’s eyes when she’d gone to welcome them home. Her suspicions abruptly clicked into place. “Darling, I’m beginning to consider the possibility that we are down here, not so much to marvel at my genius but rather, for you to admire my posterior.” A glance at Myka’s face was all the answer she needed but she spied an opportunity to tease her future wife and grasped it with both hands. Guessing that her toiled appearance was likely the cause of this heightened attraction, she raised a hand to the back of her neck, deliberately flexing muscles along her arm. “Would I be correct in that assumption?”

Knowing she was caught, Myka considered her options for all of a nano-second. Take offence, feel embarrassed and scarper, or admit her weakness, give in to the pounding in her veins and feel Helena’s warmth against her own? She was more confident about her desires these days. They were alone and there were no children likely to disturb them; it was hardly rocket-science.

Helena chuckled as eager lips met her own. She felt the cool plain of anodised metal against her back and pulled Myka closer to experience the contrast of heated skin against her front. Hands slipped beneath her t-shirt and she gasped as the tips of her lover’s fingers came into contact with her abdomen, each one sending a shock of desire through her.

Not one to waste an opportunity, HG took her cue and began blindly manipulating buttons through holes until she was able to pull apart the lapels of her fiancée’s shirt to gaze at the perfection beneath. Lips fell against supple flesh and traced a path along every nerve, encouraging a delicious moan from Myka’s throat.

“I do hope you enjoyed your shopping trip today, love,” Helena murmured against the brunette’s clavicle. “Tell me, is there any chance of allowing your wife-to-be a sneak peek at your purchases?”

A husky chuckle bubbled out from the American. “You know me,” she whispered as she leaned back to admire the heat in dark, chocolate eyes. “I’m useless at shopping in store. But I have a few things arriving via online-order and no, you can’t peek.”

HG pouted while her hands absentmindedly tugged poly-cotton from the waistband of Myka’s slacks and reached for a zipper. “Mind if I borrow your laptop tomorrow, dear?” she teased.

“Sure,” the brunette agreed, seeming nonplussed at the request.

Helena paused abruptly, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Myka smirked and raised a hand to clasp the inventor’s jaw between fingers and thumb. “Claudia taught me how to wipe my search history, so I know you won’t find what you’re looking for.”

Flushing with a combination of arousal and frustration, Helena turned her head to wrap her lips and tongue around a long digit before caressing its entire length and then releasing it with a slight pop. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” She smirked at the answering groan and twisted their bodies so that she was the one leaning over her lover.

“N-no,” the curly-haired regent insisted haltingly. She felt her resolve wavering and knew that she had to find some way to derail their flirting conversation and render both of them incapable of speech. Before the Brit could voice another thought, Myka wriggled out of her shirt and reached behind her to unclasp her bra.

HG choked on her next words and swallowed thickly. Her gaze devoured the vision in front of her as her hands rose to explore in earnest. “Well played, Darling,” she eventually managed to say before her mouth became occupied with more important things.

By the time they had exercised their passion for one another and finally come back up for air, both were completely dishevelled and breathing erratically. HG’s clothes were wrinkled in several new places and she wasn’t entirely sure whether her t-shirt was salvageable after Myka, in her haste to remove it, had pulled several stitches out of the collar. _Some pleasures are well worth the sacrifice though_ , she thought as she basked in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

With no opportunity to curl up and snuggle however, as their surroundings were hardly what one could call cosy, they fixed their appearances as best they could and made their way back to the basement, hand in hand.

Myka directed her fiancée towards the stairs to the first floor, suggesting that the inventor finally scrub off the remaining grime from the day’s construction. Then, as she passed by the front door, she snagged a hair-band from her coat pocket and pulled her wild locks into some semblance of order. A quick check in the mirror reassured her that she didn’t look as completely ravaged as she felt, and with a deep breath, she walked back into the living room to face her sister.

As predicted, Tracy’s triumphant expression paved the way for a barrage of poorly concealed innuendoes, the majority of which had Myka cringing. She couldn’t tell whether her brother-in-law was politely ignoring his wife’s teasing or if he really did take each comment at face value. When he soon excused himself to join the boys in the playroom and closed the glass doors on them, she suspected the former. Though Tracy’s audience was gone, the regent was mightily relieved when Helena eventually made her way back downstairs and temporarily interrupted Mrs Littlewood’s flow.

HG noticed her lover’s discomfort the moment she joined Myka on the couch and leaned into the lanky regent’s tense body. _Undoing all of my hard work,_ she complained inwardly. While she appreciated that siblings were wont to push each other’s buttons on occasion, she recognised when her partner had had enough and decided that it was time to knock her future sister-in-law down a peg or two.

“Tracy, I must thank you for the opportunity to show Myka the progress your husband and I have made downstairs.” She began with an air of innocence, taking her cue from her guest’s earlier comments. “It really is a challenge to find time away from the children. Much as we adore them, they do monopolise every hour of the day, and as I’m sure you know, Fredrick is at that age when he simply cannot be left to his own devices for more than a minute or two. You take the title of paranymph very seriously it seems.”

“Erm... I...” Tracy faltered, her mind wrapping around the unfamiliar word. ‘Nymph’ though sparked thoughts of half-naked woodland creatures that frolicked while men drooled over them. She saw a spark of amusement in her sister’s gaze and narrowed her eyes at the pair.

“Yeah thanks, Trace,” Myka picked up the hint and decided to run with it. “If I’d realised you had such an interest in that area, I might have thought about tying the knot earlier.”

“Left to her own devices, I’m certain Myka would not have tended to her needs so well,” Helena added in the same tone. “But then, she is a glutton for punishment.”

Myka’s snort of amusement finally brought a hint of heat to her sister’s features and the younger sibling relented. “Ok fine, you two. I give in.” She turned to the younger regent and asked, “You know I was only teasing you because I’m happy for you, right?”

“Yes,” Myka answered with a calmer voice. “But you need to learn when enough is enough.”

“Just making up for lost time,” Tracy shrugged. She shook off any lingering discomfort from being made to feel ever so slightly stupid and stood up.

“Where are you going?” Myka wandered as she worried for a second whether _she_ had taken the teasing too far as well.

The younger Bering smiled to ease her sister’s predictable guilt and simply said, “To consult Google.”

* * * * *

Claudia mumbled to herself as she paced the length of her personal study. “Trust your instincts. Fourteen thinks it’s time, so do it,” she told herself firmly, thinking of the vibes she’d been getting from the newest incarnation of the Warehouse.

She danced lightly on the spot, pushing off from one foot and then the other, like a boxer preparing for the fight of their life. Tilted absurdly into the room, the bookshelf in front of her opened into a lit passage way, creating an image like something out of an old B-Movie. Pete’s Young Frankenstein impression sprang to the forefront of her mind and she shook her head with a smile.

“Wish you could do this with me, guys,” she whispered into the ether. She pictured Pete and Myka bickering behind her, letting the image offer comfort as she finally stepped forward and pulled the secret door closed behind her.

The short passage curved into what was the ‘eye’ of her little island sanctuary, where she alone was permitted access. Her fortress of solitude, as she so liked to call it, housed her super-computer, a bed/couch, en-suite facilities, a kitchenette and, in pride of place, her guitar. These were her living quarters most of the time. She had another apartment back in the States that, for outward appearance, was her official place of residence. However, other than when she stayed with Myka and Helena, this was the only place that felt like home anymore.

She missed the days when she could wander across the hall and ask any of her friends some random question, and the nights they would grab a bowl of popcorn each to eat in Pete’s room as they watched some awful reject movie that he liked. Breakfast wasn’t the same without her surrogate family and she sometimes just needed Artie to yell at her about something, but everyone had moved on in their own way and plenty of the changes in her life gave her a sense of purpose that she had never felt before.

Her feet carried her to where she’d safely stored her latest acquisition. The Cronus Stone stood on a tall pedestal in pride of place, surrounded by a shimmering, purple force field that Claudia dissipated with a wave of her hand over a built-in sensor. Pensively, she cupped the rose quartz between two hands and stepped into the centre of the room, making sure that she had ample space in front of her.

“Right, Claudia,” she whispered into the silence of the room, preparing yet another pep-talk. “You’ve got girl-power. You’re Hermione Granger: super-brain, self-believer and all that jazz... Alohamora...”

For a moment, she closed her eyes and took several steady breaths. Once her thoughts were clear and her intent fixed, her lids fluttered open and hazel eyes focussed solely on the stone, willing it to life.

A minute passed with no result but her concentration didn’t waver. Two minutes... Three... A bead of sweat gathered at her temple but still she pushed on. Just as she teetered on the point of allowing doubt to creep back in, the stone moved. A tiny vibration juddered into a steady rocking, until a halo of light emanated all around it and lifted it into the air where it began to spin in tight circles.

Daring not to make any sudden moves, the redhead painstakingly lowered her hands and took a tentative step backward. She watched in awe as radiant beams arched through the air and towards the ground. The moment they touched the hardwood floor, energy split and swirled upward in two helical columns.

It became too bright for the caretaker to keep her eyes open and she had to cover them with both hands even as they closed. Hearing her own heart beat a rapid rhythm; Claudia peeked cautiously through her fingers and then squealed slightly in shock at what she saw.

“It worked,” she gasped.

Not five feet away, two people stood; their expressions curious as they gathered themselves.

“So it would seem,” the female spoke after nodding to her light-beam companion, assuring him that she was ok. “Are we to take it that you are Claudia Donovan?”

The young computer whizz gave a timid little wave, feeling under the woman’s gaze, as if she was ten years old again. “That’s me.” There was a lengthy pause where no one ventured another thought and the redhead began to twitch between awkwardness and excitement. Eventually though, a giggle rose from deep inside and she skipped a little on the spot. “I’m so hyped: HG is going to shit a brick.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: paranymph – a groomsman or a bridesmaid


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insulin at the ready for this one; it's mostly fluffy and sweet (with a bit of spice mixed in). Teensy bit of drama at the end too.
> 
> I have never seen the play that HG and Myka watch in this chapter, so any negative/positive comments should not be taken seriously.
> 
> I also have never been to Colorado so everything included about the scenery etc is a mix of google-earth and my imagination.

Echoing through the doorway, the sound of Fredrick’s distraught tears followed his parents from Pete’s apartment and played like a broken record in their minds as they climbed into Myka’s car and buckled themselves in. In stark contrast to his sister, who had charged from the house earlier that morning with her overnight possessions slung over her back, the toddler had yet to comprehend the concept of time and place. When his mommies kissed him and told him goodbye, he had no idea where they were going or if they were ever coming back and no matter how many words of reassurance they offered him, most occasions they had to leave him recently, he was inconsolable.

Difficult as it was though, short-term separation was a necessary lesson for any child to learn and both regents knew that their son would be happy and well looked after, once Pete, Lila and Sophie had managed to distract his mind from their absence. Lila would text a picture of their little prince once his tears were dry and he was occupied with some game or toy, and both knew that already, he was probably being consoled with a cuddle and a story.

It wasn’t the best start to the weekend but it was part of parenthood and considering the fact that they had agreed to try for another child, it was a part of their lives that they had learned to accept and deal with.

Despite knowing this, Freddy’s sad tears pulled at heartstrings like no other, leaving a subdued disquiet hanging over their heads as their journey began.

Helena reached for the stereo controls and pressed play on a compilation of Dionne Warwick’s top hits; the latest selection for the Victorian’s twentieth century music education. She shared a small smile with her fiancée as they both settled into their seats with a sigh and allowed the sounds of soul to wash over them.

A little under halfway through the album, Myka’s phone buzzed and HG reached for it with eager hands. The chuckle that bubbled from her throat in turn brought a smile to the American’s features and she caught enough of a glance at her son’s antics to feel relief pushing away the last of her tension.

Helena gazed at the image a while longer, her finger hovering over his face as she absorbed his adorable features. “I have to say, love: we made two very handsome children.”

Myka laughed. “You’re biased.”

“Completely,” HG agreed.

Thankfully, their route was not heavy with traffic and they made good time. One quick pit-stop for a bathroom break and a change of driver later, they pulled onto a dirt track and into the car park at Lookout Mountain. Myka took the picnic backpack from the trunk and handed the blanket and extra pullovers to Helena before locking up and indicating the path she wanted to take.

Fingers slid together as they walked along, each woman casually commenting about mundane things like the weather or the amount of people they’d encountered so far. It was a day not to concern themselves with the bigger picture. A day just for the two of them to stroll and chat together, like they were simply two people exploring what it meant to be in love.

Their trek took them through the forest and along a mountainside path until they arrived at a flat, sun-kissed outcrop and decided they’d found the perfect place for their picnic.

Once the blanket was spread beneath them and the food laid out, Helena and Myka tucked into their lunch in companionable silence. Looking out over the forest and reservoir, with the city in the distance, the couple soaked in the awe-inspiring beauty of the cool blues and greens, and the wild sounds of nature surrounding them. As the American served dessert, HG pulled out a petite bottle of sauvignon blanc and emptied its contents into two small glasses before handing one to her partner.

“A toast, to us,” the inventor announced as she offered up her glass to meet Myka’s.

The brunette obliged with a radiant smile, giggling slightly at the clink that echoed against the rocks. “To us. And to good friends who are willing to sacrifice their evenings to watch over our little angels.”

“Hear, hear,” Helena chuckled and sipped happily at her wine.

With the food and drink depleted, HG assisted the clean up by handing items to her fiancée as they were requested - she knew better than to try re-packing the bag herself. Once the area around them was free of debris again, she folded their blanket into a small oblong and encouraged the lanky brunette to settle between her legs so they could gaze out together at the scene below.

With her head resting on Myka’s shoulder and arms wrapped around the brunette’s waist, Helena felt perfectly content with the world around her. Never forgetting that darkness littered her past, she absorbed every detail of beauty that she could and stored it away to revisit at a later date. “This phenomenon never fails to astound me.”

“What phenomenon would that be?” Myka asked as she half turned to see her partner’s expression.

Helena gestured to the view with one hand and squeezed the brunette closer with the other. “The way colour and light appear most vibrant when you are with a loved one.” She caught Myka’s eye for a moment and leant in to plant a soft kiss on a waiting mouth. When they parted, blissful smiles painting both of their lips, she added, “You made the grubby streets of London shine for me. Reanimated my senses when food had no taste and music was painful to hear. You lit a candle in an all-consuming oubliette of madness and grief to bring me back into the light. You saved me, Myka. I love you.”

With a throat full of tears, the American abandoned all notion of verbalising her answer and settled for kissing her fiancée at length. At some point, she managed to reposition her body so that she sat sideways in her lover’s lap and wrapped her arms around the inventor’s neck, letting her pull her partner impossibly closer. It was tempting to let herself get carried away in the moment but this wasn’t like being in the bookshop, where the only other people with access were ignorant of their activities. Reluctantly, she loosened her hold and pulled back so that their foreheads rested against one another while they caught their breath.

“I love you too, Helena,” Myka replied softly. “So much. My life was duller too, before you came crashing into it.”

They both chuckled and proceeded to murmur loving sentiments until each agreed that it was time to move on.

* * * * *

By the time they arrived back in the city, it was mid-afternoon. The couple agreed that it was too late for the museum or art gallery, and still too early to make their way to the theatre, where they had booked tickets to see ‘Silent Sky’, a play about a late nineteenth century, female astronomer who was little appreciated by her male peers. Knowing of Henrietta Swan-Leavitt’s brief association with Warehouse 13 in its early days, and both of the regents’ personal interest in the period, it seemed like the perfect choice.

In the meantime, they shopped. Meandering down side streets, in and out of antique and old bookshops, ignoring curious looks from other shoppers as they handled items while wearing identical pairs of purple gloves, they spent a memorable couple of hours mostly browsing and contemplating the history behind the stranger finds.

“I think it would be odd _not_ to find a curiosity somewhere amidst all of this,” HG whispered to her companion as they browsed more shelves, now in search of something for their daughter. “I’m hesitant to buy anything which could return to ‘bite us in the arse’, as you so colourfully put it.”

“Ass,” Myka corrected and chuckled but didn’t dismiss the concern entirely. “You know I wouldn’t give anything to Christina that had a mind of its own. Claudia can test anything we buy. Besides, with the thousands of things we touch every day, there’s never any guarantee that we won’t stumbled upon a _curiosity_ somewhere. Old doesn’t necessarily scream artefact,” she reminded her fiancée.

Raising an eyebrow, Helena ducked her head conspiratorially closer. “Often it does... literally.”

“Do you think I’m being reckless?” the brunette asked with growing concern. Shopping for her daughter had become a pleasure. Even more so, because Christina appreciated the same things _she_ had as a child.

Pausing in her perusal, the inventor turned to address her partner more closely. “No, love, not reckless. I know you will have considered the risks from every possible angle. You know me though; I cannot seem to set my mind at ease when I think about our children having access to our world. I envision not so much endless wonder as persistent torment.”

Sensing that the enjoyment part of their shopping excursion was fizzling out with her fiancée’s growing anxiety, Myka abandoned her task and linked her arm through the Brit’s to guide her to the exit. The inventor protested briefly, apologising for her lack of faith and insisting that she could keep her more pessimistic thoughts to herself. Today, they were not supposed to be worrying about all the things that could go wrong though and, once out on the street again, Myka led them back through the hustle and bustle of pedestrian traffic and into the nearest park. There, she slid off her gloves and sighed in relief as the inventor’s skin touched her own again.

“That’s better,” Myka sighed and threw a smile at her companion.

Helena nodded: her eyes half-closed as she felt their spiritual connection strengthen through their physical one. “Indeed. It is no wonder that Norie was always so self-assured. I feel the best parts of me awaken when you touch me.”

No matter how much they both preferred their new purple-leather gloves, courtesy of Claudia, neither felt whole without the occasional touch. “But I hate not feeling your skin on mine.”

After more than two years of wearing her engagement ring: with each day growing closer to her soul mate, the artefact on her finger became less like an accessory and more like a part of her body and soul.

The ability to calm her lover’s thoughts and spread confidence through their bond was an invaluable gift, one that became increasingly powerful over time. It wasn’t a conscious effort for either of them but something like a natural fusion of their most positive character traits. It wasn’t invasive and often they weren’t even aware of it happening, but it tethered them to one another and gave them a focal point in tough times. It didn’t stop them from snapping at each other when they were tired and irritable. It didn’t prevent the occasional argument over whose turn it was to do the laundry or mow the lawn. It didn’t curb their natural ability to do or say things in the heat of the moment that hurt the other’s feelings. Once the smoke cleared on these tiffs though, an apologetic touch or word held a weight that healed most wounds. It made their reconciliation after an argument that much more intense.

The park was busy and the sight of the lovers holding hands drew a range of stares, but the regents were so wrapped up in one another that the odd disapproving glance went completely ignored. In relation to the play they were going to watch, they meandered verbally between topics of Victorian and scientific interest until they segued naturally into Miss Leavitt’s connection with the Warehouse.

“Did you ever get a chance to meet her?” Myka wondered as she knew that her fiancée had travelled state-side at least once after Christina was born.

“Nikola spoke well of her, but I was not fortunate enough to meet her face to face. In London, we were not informed that Thirteen was being built and there was no exchange programme,” she joked. “Though astrophysics was not my area of expertise, I imagine I would have found her discoveries fascinating.”

Wild hair bounced with a nod. “I’m sure you’d have enjoyed bad-mouthing the scientific community for belittling your collective contributions too.”

“Yes, well... By that point, I had learned to bully Charles into being my voice as well as my pen. I published several newspaper articles in his name, supporting women’s liberation and recognition. I made him an honorary suffragette.” HG took a moment to remember her brother’s initial resistance to the idea, thinking that it would harm his image. “I only had to invoke Christina’s name and paint a picture of her potential future under the period’s male-driven society to make him see sense. Any time that he got cold feet after that, I simply threatened to withdraw my services as his muse.”

Myka threw a side-on glance at the inventor and smiled at the pompous edge in her voice. It always sounded more pronounced when she talked about her brother. “I remember reading one of those articles in your office when Pete and I were looking for you in London.” She thought back to that fateful day and pulled apart the pieces that she liked to reminisce about most: Artie informing her that HG Wells was a woman, falling into those intense eyes for the first time, feeling the fleeting caress of those wonderfully dexterous fingers against her skin as she snapped metal restraints around elegant wrists...

Helena saw the faraway expression on her lover’s face and smirked as she leant close to the other regent’s ear. “Are you thinking about those handcuffs?”

The American turned a predictable shade of pink but as she’d grown used to this kind of teasing over the years, it didn’t last long. “I prefer you in a scarf,” she countered quickly. “You’re too good at escaping from handcuffs.”

“Afraid I’ll take you to new heights and you might end up on the ceiling again?” the Brit persisted, her voice dropping an octave or two.

“Just concerned that you’ll get bored if I don’t make it challenging.”

Helena chuckled and gripped her lover’s hand tighter. “While it’s true that many of life’s pleasures do not hold my interest for long, with you in the room, Myka, I am never _bored_.” She gazed at her companion for several seconds, an adoring smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Frequently distracted,” she added. “But never bored.”

A pleased smile engulfed the brunette’s features for a few seconds and she had to look at her shoes to regain control over her face muscles. When she caught Helena’s eyes again, there was a hint of hope for what the evening might bring. She coughed and averted her gaze once more as she began rummaging in her bag. “Do you want to split the leftovers before the show? I’m not sure I’ll make it to dinner without a snack in between.”

Helena accepted half a sandwich and an apple. “Are you attempting to maintain my energy levels for some particularly exhaustive task later?” she asked as she bit into the apple with unnecessary vigour.

“God,” Myka mumbled to herself. She bit her cheek and levelled a glare at her lover. “Subtlety is not in your repertoire today, is it?”

“I want to leave you in no doubt as to my intentions,” the inventor shrugged.

Shaking her head, the brunette chuckled and began to nibble on her sandwich half. “If that intention is to spend at least twelve hours in bed with me, taking me to ‘new heights’, then I _suppose_ I can put up with the constant flirting.” She feigned indifference, giving a perfunctory nod as she chewed and hid the smile that threatened to burst through. She heard a slight choking sound and turned to raise an eyebrow at the Brit. She watched Helena get control over her breathing again before cupping her fiancée’s chin. She swiped a line of juice from the corner of Helena’s lips, bringing her thumb to her own mouth and enveloping it with a soft ‘mmm’. “Tasty,” she sighed, only loud enough for them to hear.

To onlookers, it was a fairly innocuous scene, but to Helena watching the tip of that thumb disappear, there were few other sights that she considered so erotic. In the privacy of their bedroom, Myka rarely became embarrassed these days; she was comfortable with their love life away from prying eyes. Helena missed her shy, retreating librarian on occasion though and took every opportunity to prod her into the open. Though, deciding that she wasn’t keen on the idea of damp underwear for the remainder of the day, HG reigned in her propensity to push her partner’s limits when and steered their conversation back into safer territory.

* * * * *

“I do not understand why the writer chose to invest so much of the play in a non-existent romance between the main character and her colleague. Oh, I beg your pardon, _superior_ ,” Helena complained as they sat discussing their trip to the theatre while waiting for their meals.

At the end of the play, the Victorian had gushed about the scientific discoveries highlighted in the story and the impact they had on following generations. She had touched briefly on some of her own attempts to have her name recorded with some of her early inventions but, somewhat uncharacteristically, had not dwelled on her own brilliance. She applauded the writer’s ability to capture the struggle of the female scientists to succeed in a man’s world, where their work was restricted to a desk. During the play, she had actually cried at one point as she empathised with the frustration the actors portrayed so well.

When it came to the developing relationship between Henrietta and one of those pompous scientists though, HG couldn’t contain her disappointment.

“It was hardly the focus for the story, Helena,” Myka attempted to derail her lover’s tirade. “Perhaps she thought that the soul shouldn’t have to live on a diet of science alone.” She reached across the table and slid her fingers over her fiancée’s in an obvious show of romantic affection, the gesture intended to highlight her point.

HG scoffed. “ _You_ are an endlessly fascinating and beautiful person. _He_ struck me as a misogynistic buffoon. The two of you are not comparable,” she muttered indignantly, feeling personally affronted by the suggestion.

“In your opinion,” Myka gently prodded her companion, whose demeanour was rapidly descending into a pit of sullenness. Despite the unexpected turn to their day, the brunette couldn’t help but notice how similar her son’s pout was to his Mummy’s. It was adorable really. She wondered how far she would have to push the Brit before she’d explode into an all-out tantrum. Her curiosity was not acute enough for her to actually attempt it though and she softened her tone further. “You did enjoy it though, didn’t you?”

The hint of uncertainty in Myka’s tone tugged at the inventor’s heart-strings and Helena’s exaggerated irritation deflated like a popped balloon. She entwined their fingers and caressed the backs of the brunette’s hands with her thumbs. “I did, love. It was a good choice and it’s been a most enjoyable day.”

Myka smiled, inwardly applauding her ability to tame the storm. “It’s far from over,” she flirted, distracting the inventor further from her negative thoughts.

They ate in fits and bursts, conversation and laughter bubbling up between mouthfuls until they were replete and Helena asked for the bill. The journey home passed in similar fashion, the setting sun topping the billing in their live, drive-through movie. As they entered Boulder and advanced ever closer upon their home, the atmosphere in the car transformed from a relaxed, easy banter into quiet anticipation.

Usually, during their monthly date-night, they spent the evening exchanging longing looks, occasionally playing footsie and ignoring the world around them. Those evenings, they would return to their abode and relieve the baby-sitter du-jour (usually Pete) and tiptoe to bed where, if they were awake enough, they would make love, quietly and always with the knowledge that their children might need them.

On this occasion, there was no such reception waiting for them and the realisation that they wouldn’t have to restrain themselves was a powerful aphrodisiac.

Helena had barely turned the key in the lock when Myka was upon her, pulling her coat from her shoulders and throwing the keys into a bowl with a loud clatter. Neither of them paid any mind to where their clothes landed as they kissed their way up the stairs and into their bedroom.

“Leave it,” Myka ordered as she saw her lover reach to close the door behind them. It might have seemed like a silly little detail, but the visual reminder that they were all alone was what she needed to let go of the last of her inhibitions.

Helena obeyed readily, the door easily forgotten as she set her sights on the uncontrolled passion behind green eyes. Her hands tugged a silk shirt from trousers and trembled upwards over buttons, pausing at each one to tease it from its hole. Myka’s fingers tugged at her hair just hard enough to send tingles of pleasure down her spine and she moaned into the brunette’s mouth.

Staggering towards the bed, they hit the edge and tumbled onto the mattress where, for several minutes, they lay in a tangled heap of limbs, kissing fervently as each remaining item of clothing found a temporary home on the floor.

More than willing to let her lover take charge for now, Helena rolled onto her back with Myka’s urging and slid a thigh along the brunette’s side until she could wrap her legs completely around a toned waist. Ankles locked together, holding the taller woman in place as HG carded her fingers through wild hair and pulled hungry lips more forcefully against her own.

The sounds of their combined pleasure quickened their desire and impelled them towards their goal. Hands roamed with intent, caressing, squeezing, rubbing, swirling, thrusting, until they became nothing but synapses responding to stimuli, sweating and trembling together through their completion.

Sated for now, breaths gradually finding regular rhythms again, the couple collapsed against the bed and drew each other into a loving embrace. Several times throughout the night, Helena had to wrap her arms around her fiancée and bury her face against a leonine neck as she recovered from their lovemaking. On each occasion, Myka held her tightly and breathed in the scent of the inventor’s hair and the increasing potency of ‘them’ in post-coital bliss. Eventually letting exhaustion catch up with them, they cuddled into the sheets and fell asleep, some part of them continuing to touch until the sun rose and signalled the beginning of a new day.

* * * * *

Myka was the first to wake, her dreams melting into reality as her eyelids fluttered open and she began to take in her surroundings. With hardly a sound, she stretched her arms out above her head and pointed her toes towards the floor, a sigh of satisfaction escaping as she felt her over used muscles protesting dully with each movement. Eyes drifted shut as she recalled the last twenty-four hours and a smile grew across her lips. Now entirely awake, she rolled onto her right side and gazed over at her fiancée.

Helena’s face was mostly hidden between hair and pillow; one hand lay tucked under her head and the other spread out before her, as if reaching across the narrow divide for the body beside her. Deep, throaty breaths emerged from her nose, the occasional hum accompanying them, signifying the inventor’s complete emersion in her slumber.

Since it was so rare that either of them had a moment to themselves of a morning, Myka took the opportunity to relax against a raised arm and watch her lover sleep. She didn’t think she would ever fully believe that her life was real. Especially on days like this, when her idol, the woman who completed her like no other, appeared so fantastically perfect, it was difficult to see that she wasn’t imagining the whole thing. She had seen enough since becoming an agent, to know that there was more to the world than what she’d been led to believe in her youth. Meeting historical figures was not as incredible as she’d have thought a few years ago, but the fact that _she_ was lying next to one, sharing her life with this amazing woman, _that_ was the part that she sometimes struggled to comprehend.

The difference in Myka’s thoughts these days was that they no longer tipped her into a pit of self-depreciation. Helena’s influence had convinced her that she was entirely worth the adoration she received from her family and friends. She felt beautiful. She felt strong. She felt loved. Mostly thanks to the softly snoring woman beside her.

Not wanting to leave the sanctuary of their bed for long, the American reluctantly pulled a t-shirt over her head, visited the bathroom to answer the call of nature and then grabbed the book from her nightstand before crawling back beneath the covers and propping herself up against the headboard.

Helena dozed for another half an hour until the turning of pages caught her semi-conscious attention and her eyes fluttered open. Pressure from her bladder forced her from her cosy refuge and, like her wife-to-be, she make a quick dash to the washroom before diving back into bed.

Comfortable once more, she peered up and smirked at the glasses perched on her beloved’s nose. She reached up with one hand and ran a finger along one arm, following the curve of the metal behind an earlobe. “Darling, if you’re trying to draw my interest again, it’s working.”

Myka glanced down with a raised eyebrow, knowing that the stern expression would tease her lover even more. “You’re insatiable. Can’t you see I’m reading?”

Accepting the gauntlet, HG rose to her knees and threw a leg over her lover’s lap so that she was sitting on her thighs. A challenge stared at her over the top of the book and she pushed it away with one finger before leaning down to bring their mouths together. She felt Myka’s smile grow with the kiss and answered with a grin of her own. The occasional sound of amusement became a short series of chuckles and eventually unstoppable giggling as the book fell from the brunette’s fingers, landing with a thud on the floor, and the pair toppled sideways onto the pillows.

Helena was just easing Myka’s t-shirt up over her ribs when they heard a knock at the door, followed by a familiar pattern of ding-dongs. They groaned in unison, cursing the interruption, and moved together to make themselves presentable.

“Were you expecting Claudia today?” Helena asked her fiancée, wondering if they’d made plans and she’d forgotten. It seemed unlikely though; Myka never forgot and would have reminded her.

“No,” Myka replied, appearing equally puzzled. She sent a quick text to the redhead to let her know that they were on their way down and began pulling underwear out of a drawer. “I guess she just decided to drop in. I hope she hasn’t got another assignment for either of us. We’ve got so much planned for the next couple of weeks.”

They exchanged a look as both glanced at the mussed bed and knew that they could each do with a shower to freshen up after their enthusiastic activities. With an elegant shrug, the inventor pointed out that it couldn’t be helped and that if Claudia had a problem with it, then she would learn to give them more notice next time she dropped by.

The new caretaker entered and followed her friends into the kitchen where HG announced that she was gasping for a cuppa. Myka fiddled with the coffee machine instead and Claudia helped herself to juice before perching on a stool at the breakfast bar to nervously await the moment she would have to break her news.

“So, to what to we owe the unexpected pleasure of your company this morning, Claudia?” Helena asked, secretly hoping that whatever the issue, it would be brief and she would be able to persuade her fiancée to return to their bed. She felt her partner’s presence by her side a few seconds later and placed a hand on her thigh.

“I need you guys to promise not to get too mad,” the redhead muttered, her hands reaching with nervous excitement for her juice as twin stern looks immediately focussed on her.

“The fact that you have to preface your news with that statement does not bode well,” the inventor responded tightly, her thoughts already taking her in one particular direction.

Reading her partner’s mind, Myka asked the question they were both thinking, “Is Christina ok?” She and Helena had agreed that Claudia’s island was a safer place for their bronzed teen, but for a moment she wondered whether that decision had come back to bite them.

“What? Oh! Yeah, Big-C is fine in dream-land. I still monitor her vitals twice a day – no change there.” She watched her friends’ expression relax a little but knew that the calm wouldn’t last long.

“So what is this dire news then?” the brunette prompted when it seemed that the computer whizz was stalling.

“Dire suggests that it’s bad news, which it isn’t, not really. It’s kinda neat actually and I’m sure you’ll be leading a lively conga when you realise how great it is... eventually...”

“Claude,” Myka warned.

“Just maybe _try_ to look on the bright side...”

“Claudia!” Helena interrupted sharply.

“Ok, ok!” The redhead waved her hands in the air and then centred herself before calmly placing them on the island surface. “HG, you remember the telegram your folks got after the SS Laurel supposedly sank?”

Hearing the name of the ship her grandparents had lost their lives in, Helena’s head snapped to attention. “ _Supposedly_?”

Myka reached for her lover’s hand and laced their fingers together. She had an anxious feeling that she knew where this conversation was going. Her friend’s instinct to plead that they not get angry was correct. It just wouldn’t do any good; she could already feel it bubbling away beneath the surface.

“Well, they were regents right? Like you guys are now. They had to oversee the plans for Warehouse 13: find the site, contract the right builders, meet the new caretaker. All that jazz...” Claudia trailed off as a shadow passed across the Victorian’s eyes and she felt a chill run down her spine.

Helena’s voice was cold as she asked, “They fabricated their deaths?”

“Why?” Myka interjected. “Surely they could have just kept up the pretence that they were travelling and left it at that.”

Claudia addressed her oldest friend but kept her eyes mostly on her fellow inventor as she explained, “They were never going to return to England and they couldn’t risk that HG would follow them. They also couldn’t risk interfering with everything that they knew would happen with CJ and the bronzer.”

“So... They abandoned me to that fate, knowing full well the misery I would face...” Helena shoved her fingers into her hair and jumped up from her stool to begin pacing. In her darkest hour, she had needed their comfort more than anything.

“Not leaving might have ruined your chance to meet Myka,” Claudia tried to reason.

HG rounded on the caretaker. “That is no excuse! I needed them!” After a beat, her mind whirring at a blinding pace, one question sat at the forefront of her mind. “Why have I never questioned their disappearance? I have known for some time that they were involved with the Warehouse. Why didn’t I think to look into the sinking?”

Claudia appeared to shrink in her seat. “You couldn’t. No one would think to question it: that was the point of the artefact they used to write the original telegram.”

Myka’s frown deepened. “They left Helena with no way to discover the truth?”

“Yes... And they feel terrible about that,” the redhead shot back without thinking.

Time appeared to stand still as the room fell silent but for the ticking of the clock from the hallway and the gentle hum of the refrigerator. Claudia gulped, knowing that the two wordsmiths had caught her slip of the tongue.

“They _feel_ terrible?” Helena’s voice was deathly quiet as she gestured with a stiff hand, her eyes boring into the young woman cowering before her. “Do you mean to tell me that, not only did my grandparents lie to me about when they died, but that they are in fact not dead at all?”

Closing her eyes for a second, the redhead took a deep breath, preparing for the nuclear explosion that she was sure would come. She breathed out slowly and replied barely above a whisper, “Yes, they’re alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit, meet Fan.


	6. Chapter Five

Hot water rained down on them as they stood in the shower, washing away the bliss of the last twenty-four hours. They would rather their anger and senses of betrayal were filtering down the plughole instead but the damage had been done: Claudia’s news had broken their bubble and it was too late to go back to fix it.

Myka had unceremoniously kicked the redhead out of her home, feeling very little guilt for the expression of sorrow that had filled those hazel eyes. Deep down, she knew that the young caretaker was one of the least to blame for the circumstances but there was no one else around to take her anger out on and she wanted nothing more than to be alone with her fiancée, to be the rock that they both needed.

It wasn’t quite the shower scene they had expected earlier that morning and Myka couldn’t help but feel resentment along with her anger as she held Helena close and felt her body wrack with sobs. There had been very few occasions where she had seen the inventor reduced to tears, the worst being after their confrontation in Yellowstone and during the third trial of their adventure in Warehouse 2. Both had been a result of her devastation over losing Christina. This time, she was gaining lost loved ones but with the added knowledge that she needn’t have mourned their passing in the first place.

When she had run out of tears, Helena asked to be alone for a while and Myka reluctantly stepped out of the shower to dry off.

As she dressed in shirt and slacks and then changed the bedclothes, Myka felt her emotions fluctuate like a yoyo. Eleanor and Rupert were alive! Helena’s grandparents. Two people who she could call in-laws in a few months time. Two people who had deceived the woman she loved and left her to endure the most terrible moments of her life without solid support. People who valued secrets over family it seemed. People who she had become fast friends with in the short time she’d known them, who were responsible for causing her partner more pain.

She passed the bathroom and noticed that the water had stopped running. She knocked lightly and asked if Helena wanted anything but after waiting a minute with no reply, she announced that she’d be downstairs if she was needed and made her way back to the kitchen.

At first glance, Myka couldn’t quite figure out what had changed. Her brain simply refused to take more information on board; she was still being overloaded with the repercussions of the bomb they’d had dropped on them that morning. Three unfinished drinks remained on the island counter where stools were not neatly tucked under. Both of these things ticked the ‘out of place’ box, but between Claudia’s discarded juice and Helena’s cold tea, sat a plain brown container.

The regent ground her teeth as she realised that the caretaker had popped back to drop off another surprise. As calmly as she could manage, Myka tipped the un-drunk beverages down the drain and deliberately took her time washing the vessels. Once she was finished with placing the mugs and tumbler back in their respective places, she slid onto one of the stools and pulled the box towards her.

On top of a pile of official looking files lay an aged envelope with her lover’s name written in flowing script: _Helena. G. Wells._ Myka felt a lump rise in her throat and she knew by the handwriting that it was a letter from HG’s grandmother. She plucked it carefully from the box and turned it over several times as she stared, her mind running in circles while she tried to guess at what might be concealed inside. When the temptation to open and read it herself became more insistent, she placed it on the furthest edge of the counter and began to inspect the files contained beneath.

Within no time at all, Myka became engrossed in the contents of the box. The first half a dozen files contained everything known about particular artefacts, including her own rings, the wards that had followed her since birth and the means by which the regents Wells had arrived in the twenty-first century. Having attempted to research the former two herself, to no avail, the brunette flipped each folder open in turn and began to soak up the information.

“What’s all this?” Helena asked when she eventually emerged from her solitude and made her way downstairs.

A head of still damp curls rose and concerned green locked onto the confused eyes of the inventor to scan her appearance. Myka noted the sweat-pants and one of her old college t-shirts and felt a pang of empathy. All that was missing was the pint of ice cream and a movie marathon. Knowing that words of solace wouldn’t help much at this point, she turned the file in one hand and gestured to the box with the other. “The missing dossiers on your grandmother’s rings and the artefact that activates the ward around me. Plus the artefact that brought them here.” She watched with mild trepidation as dark eyes narrowed in on the letter and she held her breath as she waited for Helena’s reaction. “Do you want me to read it for you?” she asked after the silence had stretched on for too long. “Or maybe leave you alone with it?”

HG appeared to snap out of a trance and met her fiancée’s gaze with such gratitude that Myka had to fight back the tears. “Neither,” she shook her head with a small smile settling on her features. “It can wait. I made some calls while I was upstairs. Abigail agreed to fly in tonight to meet with us tomorrow. She’s going to stay in the city this week. Pete will take the children for a few hours in the afternoon, in exchange for a full debrief when we are able to give him one.”

Sighing in relief, Myka rose from her stool and approached the Brit to wrap both arms tightly around her. “I think that’s a great idea. If I’m feeling overwhelmed by all this, you must be struggling.” She left her hands in Helena’s hair as she pulled back to gaze into mahogany orbs. “I don’t know how many of my muddled feelings are mine and how many are yours,” she confessed. “All I know is that I’m angry, betrayed, relived, excited and possibly a dozen other things that I can’t put my finger on right now.”

“Not only with my grandparents either,” Helena completed her lover’s thought.

“No,” Myka agreed. “Claudia is at the bottom of my shit-list. Following from your grandparents and Irene at the top and a few of our other colleagues. I thought we were done with these huge secrets. Wasn’t that the whole point of becoming regents? Do we think Abigail knew?”

HG shook her head. “Apparently, she was told to expect our call. However, she seemed genuinely curious as to the reason. I refrained from divulging facts over the phone of course.”

“Of course.”

“I’m not sure that I feel like eating but I am hungry,” Myka explained as she kissed her partner and moved over to the bread bin. “Shall I pop a couple of slices in for you too?”

“I suppose I had better eat something,” HG replied unenthusiastically. Resigning herself to the situation, she sank onto a stool and pulled the last file out of the box. As she opened it, her stomach gave a slight lurch. “Love, have you read everything here?”

Myka turned to see what her partner was looking at and shook her head. “No, I hadn’t got to that one yet. Why, what is it?” She wandered back to the island counter and gazed over the Brit’s shoulder to read with her. Her left hand lifted to massage the back of Helena’s neck as she felt waves of tension sparking off the other woman. She scanned the first page and her brain soaked up the information in a heartbeat, giving her the same sensation of having driven over a little bridge too quickly. Myka leant down to plant a soft, lingering kiss against her lover’s lips and then wrapped both arms around her again as they looked down at the list of suspected antagonists before them. Mr and Mrs Wells had been busy with their research and surveillance, especially considering the limited resources they would have had access to. Three dossiers bulked out the folder: Agent Kipling’s on top, making both regents shudder as they recalled similar incidents involving the loathsome man. “Why wouldn’t they give us this before?”

HG sighed in both exasperation and defeat. “Because we are merely cogs in a machine, they need to keep us moving but neither too fast, nor too slow.”

“Just who is ‘they’?” the American wanted to know, her tone speaking volumes about how annoyed this whole game made her feel.

Gazing up at her partner, the inventor let the brunette see how tired she was of the whole thing. “I don’t know any more. I am full of indignant anger, which I cannot free myself from yet, but who am I angry with? Someone turning the handles or just another cog? Holding onto this ire seems meaningless... futile.”

When the toaster regurgitated the cooked bread, Myka deliberated for a moment before simply buttering all four slices and returning with them to the island. For almost half an hour, they read and nibbled, and while Myka felt her swirling emotions calming for the most part, next to her, she could feel her lover becoming increasingly agitated.

“Are you sure you don’t want to leave the rest of this for now, Helena?” Myka enquired cautiously. She was picking up mixed signals and wasn’t entirely sure which way Helena would go if pushed: moody and argumentative or teary and depressed. Though crying was marginally easier to handle, neither were pleasant and with having the children home soon, she wanted to know what to expect from the rest of the day. “Maybe it’d be a better idea to look at this more closely after we’ve talked to Abigail.”

HG’s head jerked up to frown at the brunette. “They kept this from us for a reason. Why would we hesitate?”

Myka’s gaze narrowed on the files; she couldn’t deny that she was anxious to dig back into their contents. With a sigh, she pulled out a stool and drew her lover’s hands into her own. “Whatever their reasons, I don’t believe that they want to do us harm. We will get into it but your well-being is more important to me than my curiosity. We have the information now. That’s not going anywhere and I’m conscious of how little time we have left to ourselves.” She watched dark eyes dart away from her and felt the waves of resistance flowing from the inventor. “Neither of us is in the best frame of mind to be thinking logically right now and you know what Abigail’s going to ask us, don’t you?”

Helena shook her head, appearing unconvinced. “Are you asking me to just push it all aside? This intelligence could hold the key to keeping our children safe, Myka. Are you really telling me to leave it alone? Every second we waste could hold a heavy cost.” Her voice grew steadily harder, fuelled by the earlier anger that simmered beneath the surface and she pulled her hands away to run them through her hair.

Biting her tongue, Myka swallowed her immediate retort. _How dare she accuse me of caring less about our kids!_ Though she managed to keep her thoughts in check, when she next spoke, much of the compassion had left her voice. “I’m not _telling_ you to do anything, Helena. I’m merely suggesting that our time might be better spent addressing the emotional effect of this discovery so we are better able to process all of _this_ ,” she swept a hand over the counter before finally taking umbrage from her partner’s unyielding expression and moving across the room to tip their empty plates in the sink. “You are, as always, free to deal however you want to.” Knowing that anything else she might say in her current state of mind wouldn’t be at all helpful, she decided that a strategic retreat was in order. Helena processed her emotions better sometimes when left to her own devices.

HG felt her insides tighten uncomfortably as her fiancée left the kitchen and an ominous silence grew in her wake. Irritation and anger continued to war with logic. It was uncomfortable to admit that Myka had a good point, when all she wanted was someone to rage at and something to distract her from thoughts of what her ‘dead’ grandparents were up to at that very moment. It hadn’t taken long at all for her pep-talk in the shower to wear off, replaced by a renewed understanding of having been abandoned at the worst point in her life. It didn’t matter about the reasons now, when she thought about Eleanor and Rupert boarding that ship, knowingly deserting her, she was filled with an ache that stabbed deep into her heart.

Despite knowing just how much her thinly veiled, bitter accusations would hurt Myka, she had uttered them anyway in the heat of the moment and regret burned swiftly in the back of her throat. Just as she’d decided to swallow her pride, her fiancée’s figure returned to fill the doorway and she flinched at the wet fire in green eyes. She expected the worst until Myka opened her mouth...

“I thought I might as well fetch Freddy,” the brunette announced, her tone brittle until it cracked around her son’s name. Glancing briefly down at her coat, she paused to fiddle with a button before looking back at her partner with glassy eyes, choking on her words as she said, “Don’t you _dare_ let me leave this house without kissing me goodbye.”

HG barely took a breath before she was out of her seat and half way across the room. Both hands reached for Myka’s face and she drew the brunette’s mouth against her own in apologetic reverence. She paused a beat, simply allowing the solid feel of soft lips to chase away some of the worst distress from the morning, only deepening the kiss when she felt her lover relax and wrap arms around her back.

Tremendously pleased that her bold approach had worked so well, Myka hummed and bunched her fingers in the fabric at the back of the Brit’s t-shirt. Relief shot through her and she indulged in the taste of her lover for several minutes, recapturing the emotional and physical closeness that they had enjoyed before Claudia’s visit.

As they pulled apart, Helena wrapped her arms around her beloved’s waist and buried her face in the crook between shoulder and neck. For a little while, she simply breathed through her nose and absorbed the scent that could always ground her cyclonic thoughts and emotions.

“You might think, that after so many instances of letting my emotions get the better of me and putting my foot in my mouth, I’d have learned to filter my thoughts by now,” HG murmured into warm skin before pulling back far enough to gaze into green eyes. “I’m sorry, love.”

Twin tears broke their banks and slid down Myka’s cheeks as she brought their foreheads together and closed her eyes. She sighed deeply. “I didn’t agree to marry you without knowing that you had a hot head, Miss Wells,” she joked, dispelling much of the remaining tension. Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal understanding and love in equal measure, and she leaned back to wipe away the wet tracks on her face. “I know it’s selfish, but I just didn’t want the news of your grandparents to undo everything we achieved this weekend... or all of the progress we made with Abi.”

Inky hair shimmered under the overhead light as Helena nodded. “Not enough progress if I’m still taking my anger out on you.”

“We’re still human, hun,” the brunette countered. “The progress is in how we solve our disagreements after the fact. Hours of therapy don’t stop us from having off days and I think we both had good reasons to be short tempered this morning.” She sighed as she considered her earlier suggestion. “I know I sounded less than sincere at the time, but I meant what I said: you’re free to deal with situations like this the way _you_ see fit.”

Helena nodded again, though less vigorously this time. Being the free spirit that she was, she often chaffed under someone else’s dictation and old habits died hard – obstinacy being her go-to reaction in most cases of conflict. “And _that_ is just one of the reasons why I love you, Myka. Don’t think for a minute that I want you to stop challenging me on these issues though.”

A sly grin lit the American’s face for a moment. “You should know by now, Helena: disagreeing with you is one of my favourite pastimes. I hardly need a green light.”

With apologies accepted and feelings soothed, Myka left to pick Fredrick up from Pete’s while Helena announced that she would think of something to prepare for dinner. Nothing more was mentioned about the papers left on the kitchen island and the inventor stood over the collection of files for a good couple of minutes after her beloved’s departure, contemplating the best course of action before she sighed to herself and packed it all away. Eleanor’s letter she avoided until the last. While the box ended up on a high shelf in a locked cupboard in the basement, she slipped the letter into her nightstand.

* * * * *

Feeling that her conversation with Myka and Helena could have gone better, Claudia fell into her absurdly comfy armchair with a petulant sigh, her legs flopping out listlessly in front of her. Though she’d known that her friends would be understandably upset by the news, she had hoped that they could overlook some of their initial reactions to feel a modicum of the excitement that _she_ felt.

As she slumped and wallowed in her thoughts for a while though, she was reminded of her own parents. It didn’t take much to empathise with what HG must be feeling when she imagined her Mom and Dad returning from the grave only to tell her that the whole ‘death’ thing had been little more than a prank.

“Frack,” she cursed under her breath. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

Eventually pulling herself from her private inner sanctuary, the redhead ventured out of the facility to greet a clear, azure sky and a warm breeze.

As part of her initiation to the role of caretaker, Mrs Fredrick had introduced her to this small island between the coasts of Turkey and Crete. Tucked neatly in the Mediterranean, the landmass boasted a self-sufficient building capable of supporting a small compliment of staff and students. Within a few short weeks, Claudia had equipped her secret headquarters with everything needed to build an elite force and hide them from the outside world.

To all and sundry, the island was the private property of some obscure, business mogul; a footnote in the history of the world’s elite. Anyone attempting to research the history of this businessperson would meet with pages upon pages of dry, tedious facts and nothing that would suggest involvement in a secret, off-grid facility.

With some help from Fargo, they were able to build a server that worked independently from the World Wide Web, giving them the ability to talk across continents without interference. The techies also build a state-of-the-art virtual simulator for recruits to supplement their lessons.

Two years later and the island was alive with activity. Claudia gazed out over the obstacle course and caught sight of a body flying into a tree on a wire while several figures emerged slowly from a dense thicket and appeared to search around them. The mini-grappler was one of her favourite inventions, next to the mini-tesla, and it filled her with something indefinable every time she witnessed either being used to great effect.

It was a shame really that her friends couldn’t just drop by now and then to visit. They knew that the island was being used as a training facility to aid them in the future, but knowing and seeing were two very different things. Whether seeing would give them peace of mind to know that their friends and family would not be alone, or if it would trigger a deeper understanding of the weight of their destiny, Claudia didn’t want to be the one to find out.

“You look troubled, dear,” a gentle voice approached the redhead from behind, pulling her out of her thoughts. “I take it that your little trip did not pan out as well as you had hoped?”

Claudia turned to meet dark eyes and marvelled again at the likeness to her friend and mentor. “I knew they’d be peeved,” she began with a sigh. “Who wouldn’t? Zombie grandparents rising from the dead an all...” She watched an eyebrow arch in scrutiny and coughed to hide her nervousness. _What is it with these Wells women?_ “Myka kicked me out. I had to apparate back in with the box.”

“Apparate?” Eleanor puzzled over the foreign word. In the forty-eight hours she had been in the twenty-first century, she had already acquired around a hundred new words, most of them from the strange woman in front of her.

“It’s a wizard thing. Appearing out of thin air and scaring the pants off everyone.”

“I trust that wizards remain as fictional characters?” Mrs Wells checked, allowing a hint of amusement to peek through. With some of the marvels she’d come across, she wouldn’t put it beyond the realms of possibility.

“Yep... Much as I’d like to have gone to Hogwarts,” she grumbled to herself. The reanimated regent simply looked at her for several seconds and she quickly realised that she was getting off track again. “There was some shouting and glaring. I think they’re gonna need some time.”

“It is to be expected,” Eleanor sighed. “There are never such open wounds as those we create for our loved ones.”

“Yeah, family crap is the suckiest,” Claudia agreed.

From her peripheral vision, Mrs Wells watched the young caretaker and couldn’t fail to notice the conflict in her eyes. She had been surprised to see just how fresh-faced the latest watcher for the Warehouse was. Myka had not described Claudia in much detail since, at the time, it hadn't seemed as important, but her future granddaughter-in-law had touched on the close friendship and mutual interests between Helena and this quirky youngster. To know that she was helping to create a rift between the two: it gave her one more thing to feel guilty about.

“I had hoped that Myka would perhaps help to quell my granddaughter’s ire,” she began to explain. “I am gratified at least to see that they continue to stand together. We shall have to be patient a little longer. Please accept my apologies, Miss Donovan. I can see that the presence of my husband and me is to your detriment. You and Helena have been close until now?”

Claudia grimaced slightly and nodded after a long pause. She scuffed a booted toe across the ground as she tried to find the words that could express her feelings toward ex-agents Bering and Wells without offending her guest. “They’re both like best friends and older sisters in their own way, you know? Myka was the first one to give me confidence in myself, always nudging me in the right direction whenever I nerved out. HG was like the cool kid in class who happened to be a freakin’ genius as well. She was like the first person who just _got_ me.”

“You should know, Miss Donovan, that no one can _give_ you confidence. They can only help you to discover it.” Eleanor watched the caretaker nod absently and felt a sliver of shame grow sharp in her mind. _You are supposed to be apologising to the poor dear, not lecturing, no matter how well intentioned._ “Your involvement in recent events had been minimal. Once we have an opportunity to speak, I shall make Helena and Myka aware of that fact. We will ensure that you are not at odds with them for long.”

Claudia wasn’t sure that she believed it could be done, not after seeing her friends’ reactions first hand. She was saved the effort of responding though when a figure entered their spot in the garden and approached with purposeful steps. The more she thought on the situation with HG’s time-travelling family, the more she understood her friends’ feelings. It would take time to come to terms with the elder Wells’ decisions and to reach a place where they might forgive the older regents. Originally, she had been happy and excited on behalf of her friends and genuinely thought that she was reuniting a lost family, as she had experienced with her own brother, but seeing the pain in Helena’s eyes and the anger in Myka’s, she knew that it wasn’t going to be so simple.

Eleanor dismissed the growing uncertainty in the caretaker’s eyes in favour of the serious expression on her husband’s face. “Rupert?”

Mr Wells greeted his wife with a hand on her elbow but addressed Claudia with his news. “Leena requested that I fetch you, Miss Donovan. It appears that we have an unexpected guest.”

The caretaker’s eyes widened. No one could access the island without an invitation so her first concern was how on Earth this ‘guest’ had managed to land there. “Where?” she asked, wanting immediate answers. Mr Wells did not appear alarmed but she didn’t want to take any chances.

“In the infirmary,” he replied.

Claudia took off, leaving personal dilemmas behind for the time being as she disappeared from sight. Rupert kept hold of his wife, silently requesting that she remain.

Bewilderment gazed at the gentleman. “Should we not aid her?”

“In due course,” he replied and then enquired cautiously, “What news of Helena?”

Eleanor shook her head and saw the hope in her beloved’s eyes fade. “As we expected; she and Myka did not take our revelation well. I do not doubt that they will wish to lead an inquisition into all that has been hidden from them, but so far as wanting to see us, I do not think we shall be so lucky for some time yet.”

Mr Wells moved his hand to his wife’s lower back and pulled her closer. “They will come around, love.”

“You still believe so?” she asked him doubtfully.

“I have faith that they will find within themselves the ability to forgive.” He paused to judge his companion’s expression, knowing from experience how much or how little to say to her. “In order for that to happen, I think we must first be open with them.”

Eleanor looked sharply at her husband and wavered over the suggestion for a moment. No matter how old Helena got, she couldn’t abstain from worrying about her Little One. Her instinct would always be to protect. She had searched high and low for an alternative to the girl’s fate back in the 1800s but to no avail, and it had very nearly destroyed her to leave Helena as she had. The last thing she wanted now was to cause more pain. Knowing that more secrets would not help though, she took a choking breath and nodded. “Complete transparency will not be easy.”

“Yet, at this point I think it is necessary in order for us all to move forward,” he reasoned with her.

“How right you are, dear,” Mrs Wells replied, reluctance continuing to colour her tone. “We can no longer excuse our silence. From this point forward, we must allow them to take the lead.”

“Easier to say than act upon?” Rupert smirked beneath his moustache, drawing a fiery glare.

“You think I am being pompous,” she accused him.

His amusement lighting a twinkle behind caramel eyes, Mr Wells kissed his wife’s cheek, tucked her arm within his own and began to lead them in the direction their host had departed. “You, pompous?”

“Oh do be quiet,” Eleanor grumbled behind a smile as she squeezed his arm to bring him closer.

They found the infirmary easily, having memorised the layout of the main building and its amenities the day before. When they were permitted to enter, they found one bed occupied by a semi-conscious figure and half a dozen people crowded around it. Two nurses were cleaning and bandaging wounds while a doctor took vitals and attempted to assess the damage. Meanwhile, Claudia conversed in hushed toned with two dusky skinned women, one with whom the regents were long acquainted.

“Irene?” Mrs Wells called as she and her husband closed the door behind them and approached the group.

Mrs Fredrick turned to the summons with a wan smile. “Mr and Mrs Wells, it is good to see that you made the trip intact. I trust that Claudia is helping you to acclimatise?”

“She is,” Rupert nodded. “It feels like little more than seconds since we were leaving your sister in charge of Warehouse 13’s construction,” he answered. “We were very sorry to hear of your loss,” he added in a gentler tone.

“Thank you,” the ex-caretaker replied. “It appeared that fate was determined that I had a hand to play after all.”

“The patient?” Mr Wells gestured towards the bed.

Irene glanced at the stocky blonde woman who continued to drift in and out of consciousness. “Former agent Meghan Coombs,” she informed the newcomers. “She was working undercover and failed to report in last week. She managed to make her way to the bed and breakfast, from where our agents used to operate. She contacted us and thankfully, was able to scrape by until we could retrieve her.”

“What was her undercover assignment?” Eleanor wondered aloud.

Having finished her whispered conversation with Leena, Claudia stepped up beside Mrs Fredrick, her face devoid of any playfulness for once. “She was spying on one of our regents. She approached us after all of the Warehouse 13 agents’ contracts were terminated. Regent Congrave contacted her shortly after their meeting to offer her a lucrative job. He wanted her to use her ties to her former colleagues to spy on _them_. She agreed but immediately turned double agent for us.”

“It appears that her position was compromised,” Rupert commented darkly. “Do we know why he chose to approach her in the first place?”

Current and former caretakers exchanged a grave glance before Irene spoke again. “He’s her uncle.”


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some catch up on other Warehouse peeps and Eleanor's letter.

"I'm so sorry to drop this on you at the last minute," Myka grovelled as she stood at the front door and watched her daughter frolic around the yard with one of the girl's school friends. "Especially since you've had the girls all weekend. Helena and I will return the favour sometime soon, I promise."

The other mother smiled in understanding and glanced over at the children. "Honestly, Myka, Christina is a joy to have around. She entertains Zahrah for me and keeps her from bickering with Adnan. I might just hire her as my babysitter," she joked.

"As long as she's not too much trouble for you," the regent continued, still feeling guilty for taking advantage of her neighbour's generous nature.

She and Helena had bottled up their grievances as they welcomed their children home the previous afternoon and tried to appear as their usual chipper selves. It had worked, to a point; excuses of having had a late night were enough to soothe their little girl's concerned enquiries. Abigail had confirmed their appointment after arriving safely at her hotel on Sunday evening and they only had to find someone to watch the kids for a few hours.

Their neighbour and fellow mother, Nadia, had been very accommodating after Helena had explained (in vague detail) their family plight. She had offered to take Christina to school and bring her back after dinner, and insisted that it would be easy enough to have Fredrick with her while she volunteered at the library crèche.

"They'll be at school most of the day anyway and it'll be nice to have this little man to keep me company," she told the regent while bouncing Freddy lightly on her hip.

Myka smiled at her son. He sat in her neighbour's arms, with a thumb in his mouth and his other hand feeling the texture of Nadia's silk scarf, an expression of contentment on his cherub-like features.

After she and Helena saw their children off once more, they sat in the living room to await Abigail's arrival. After two years of seeing the therapist, they knew what to expect and were more eager than anything to get started. Ties to their Warehouse friends stretched thin over the passing months, life taking many of them in different directions and preventing frequent get-togethers. As Pete's place could be reached by foot most days, he and his family remained as constant fixtures in their lives and for that, Myka was infinitely glad. Closer relationships had developed with her own kin but she missed her Warehouse family.

Abigail had become part of that family. Though they only got together formally once every couple of months, at Christina's insistence, Ms Cho had an open invitation to dinner should she ever be in the area.

Artie and Vanessa had taken a leap in their relationship and were living together in Atlanta, Georgia. There was always talk of getting together to catch up, but in reality, they only really saw each other now during the big holidays, unless it was Warehouse related. They had plans for the 4th of July and would see each other at the wedding, but that was likely to be the last of their social visits until Thanksgiving. With recent developments though, Myka couldn't help but wonder whether either of those occasions would be met with animosity rather than their usual awkward camaraderie.

Steve kept regular contact with Claudia but spent most of his time at home with his husband. He and Jason had settled close to his mother in New Jersey after returning, newly wed, from a reconnaissance mission in Los Angeles. The news of the wedding had surprised them all but after much complaining about the lack of celebration (mostly from Pete and Claudia), they accepted the fact that the couple were content with their decision to forego all pomp and circumstance. Steve never mentioned whether he saw his cousin or not, but he was cagey at the best of times whenever anyone asked after Meghan.

Leena had followed Claudia to her island fortress, insisting that someone needed to make sure that the caretaker was taken care of. Abigail had remained in South Dakota for a time, but often spoke of joining the former inn-keeper, insisting that it would be easier for them to counsel their patients as a team. She had only recently packed up all of her belongings to fly across the Atlantic and the couple couldn't help but wonder how much the therapist had already seen on the island.

While Jane Lattimer continued to reside in the house where she had raised a rambunctious Pete Lattimer, the permanent whereabouts of Mrs Fredrick and regents Kosan and Heath remained undisclosed.

Having sent a rather terse message to Claudia, requesting a meeting with their covert group of regents and Mrs Fredrick, Myka felt her mind brewing with a myriad of complaints and enquiries. How were she and Helena supposed to trust any of them if the Warehouse magnates continued to deceive them? Had they not earned enough trust yet? Waiting was not one of Helena Wells' strong suits and she paced the living room floor, becoming increasingly agitated, while her fiancée looked on in quiet fondness. Though she found the situation less than amusing, a small smile lifted the corner of Myka's mouth as she watched elegant hands run repeatedly through raven hair. "Helena, come sit with me," she requested gently, patting the couch cushion next to her.

An expressive brow rose and fathomless eyes narrowed on the American's face. It took mere seconds before HG rolled her eyes and snorted a short laugh. Indulging her lover's request, she sank onto the couch and dropped her head into Myka's lap. "I do love how you are able to stay so calm, darling." She felt fingers other than her own in her hair and melted a little.

"You do the same for me, Helena. We're partners. A team," she explained. "I only wish the same could be said for our colleagues. When we face them, I want answers, not platitudes this time. We need cool heads for that conversation."

"Not my 'hot head'," HG clarified. She sighed and closed her eyes to concentrate on Myka's touch.

Since Claudia's visit, any moment that she had to herself to think, her thoughts inevitably transported her to that day when she and Charles had been summoned by their parents and given the tragic news of Rupert and Eleanor's demise following the sinking of their ship. Christina had not been old enough to fully comprehend the significance of mortality and simply clung to the inventor when she could see her mother's distress. Knowing now how needless the entire ordeal had been, she was wrestling with herself to find a single stable desire to see her grandparents again. It seemed like an inevitable conclusion to their revival but she was reluctant to taint her memories with the reality of their pre-meditated deception. Seeing them, here and now, would make the reasons for her anger all too real.

"Your head has every right to be hot at the moment. If my parents did that to me, for whatever reason..." Myka trailed off as she felt her anger resurface on behalf of her soul mate. She had promised herself that she would try to hold herself together for Helena's sake. Abigail wouldn't let her completely ignore her own needs but the therapist wasn't with them yet.

Despite the American's best efforts though, Helena felt Myka's own conflict through their bond and she reached up to touch her thumb delicately against her partner's jaw, drawing the attention of searching green eyes. "Don't let my feelings diminish your own, love. As you so rightly mentioned already, we are in this together. We pick each other up but we can fall apart together too. Misery loves company after all," she smiled crookedly.

It didn't take long after Abigail's arrival for the newest regents to explain the reasons for calling the premature session. The therapist listened with her usual unassuming attentiveness, but even she couldn't hide her frown when the crux of the news spewed forth.

"Your grandparents are alive?" she reconfirmed once the room fell into silence and her patients sat before her with almost identical expressions of emotional exhaustion. "And they're here, in America?" she added, wanting to clarify this point.

"No," Helena answered. "Miss Donovan didn't mention where they are residing but I feel it safe to assume that they are staying at her island fortress."

"On the island, with us?" Abigail blurted without thinking. Swiftly pulling herself together though, she considered the possibility and nodded to herself. "Claudia has been somewhat elusive these past few days. If they are there, she has hidden them well. Or perhaps I just don't get out of my office enough," she muttered to herself in an aside. "Maybe that's the least of our concerns at the moment though. Why don't we begin with sorting out what we're feeling and take it from there?"

For the next hour, tears, accusations and declarations of intent filled the room in sporadic bursts. Myka and Helena were angry and they wanted answers. Once much of their ire had been addressed though, they were left with a kind of melancholy that tipped them into a sluggish slump.

"Anger is a perfectly acceptable response but we've talked before about how it often masks the source of our distress. You both mentioned feeling betrayed and Helena, you talked about abandonment. Again, there's nothing out of the ordinary in these emotions, particularly from a child toward a parental figure, or on behalf of a loved one." Ms Cho watched the couple nod along and smiled to herself.

In all of her time as a therapist, she had never met two people who were so in tune and willing to work together. Perhaps more of that had to do with the artefact that tethered each of them to the other, or maybe the sheer depth of their love, but whatever it was, working with them had renewed her love for her job. Even when they disagreed and arguments became heated, they somehow managed not to drag up old grievances in the process; once they found common ground on an issue, they put it to bed.

"Let's move onto something that you might find a little more uncomfortable to admit." Abigail paused and looked at each regent in turn. "Hope. Excitement." As predicted, she watched their expressions shift and eyes narrow in defiance. She gave them a few long seconds to ponder the meaning of the words in association with their grievance and then slowly rose from her seat. "I'm aware that we've covered a lot this morning already. I think you would both benefit from a break so I'm going to take a walk around your neighbourhood while you digest what we've discussed so far."

The front door closed behind the therapist with a soft click and Myka released a long suffering sigh as she collapsed back against the couch. These sessions normally drained her of energy but today's seemed to have twice the impact. Yes, talking to Abigail had helped and planning their next steps gave her a clearer focus for her energy, but she couldn't shake the feeling of their being something else underneath her anger. Looking into Helena's eyes though and seeing the transition between turmoil and calm, the American pushed the thought aside. She was startled from her inner musing when the inventor stood up suddenly and reached for her hand.

"Come along," HG instructed as she tugged on Myka's arm and made for the stairs.

As they approached their bedroom, Myka thought she'd guessed what was on Helena's mind and paused. "Honey, I love you and I'm normally all for seeing you naked, but I'm really not in the mood right now."

Helena stopped abruptly just inside the doorway and rounded on her fiancée with an amused smirk. "Darling, I do believe I've been a bad influence on you. I love the way your mind drifts naturally to sex when I lead you to the bedroom."

Myka blushed. "So you weren't...?"

"Not this time, no."

"Oh..." Shuffling her feet slightly, the brunette laughed off her fleeting embarrassment and shook her head. "So what was with the rush?"

HG leaned forward and pecked Myka on the corner of her mouth before returning to her task. She pulled her grandmother's letter from her bedside table and sank onto the bed, the amusement from moments before dissipating with her sudden nervousness. "I thought now would be an opportune time to see what she had to say."

Myka hesitated. She wasn't sure that she was ready to hear what excuses Eleanor had for faking her death but by the expression on her partner's face, Helena needed to know. Swallowing back her concerns again, she joined the inventor on the bed. "Whatever you need, Helena. They are your grandparents after all."

Feeling a twinge of reluctance over their bond and a dull spike of what she vaguely recognised as regret, Helena held the letter still in her lap and turned to her fiancée. "You're holding something back, Myka. What is it?"

On the verge of denying all knowledge of anything untoward, Myka met the Brit's gaze and knew that the attempt would be futile. She shook her head and glared down at the intrinsic pattern of the bedspread. "I trusted them to be there for you," she eventually began, her words choked by the onset of fresh tears. "It was so hard, leaving you and our baby, knowing what you would face." She looked up again and felt a lump rise in her throat as nothing but love, understanding and compassion gazed back at her. "I told myself that you would be ok because Eleanor and Rupert would be there to support you."

"They were, love. For a time."

Wild curls shook vigorously. "I knew..." she sobbed. "Deep down, I knew they would have to leave you. Helena, I'm no better than them. I don't want to hear their excuses because I know them already and I don't think I'm ready to face the fact that I will want to forgive them."

"In turn, you would have to forgive yourself," Helena concluded.

Sniffing through her nod, Myka waited for the usual absolution to come her way. When Helena remained reticent for an uncomfortably long period, she huffed. "Say something, please."

Sighing, HG flicked a stray lock of hair over her shoulder and tossed the letter aside in favour of focussing her attention on the American. "What would you like me to say, Myka? Should I berate you? Would it ease your pain to throw a few accusations your way?"

"No," the brunette protested softly.

Helena held tight to her exasperation. "I understand that this is reawakening some of your past guilt but I thought we had already eradicated any notion of that?"

The inventor's genuine confusion sparked a touch of shame in the younger woman. "Yeah, I guess we did."

"Have you still not forgiven yourself for returning to this time?" Helena asked with confusion and concern.

"For leaving your there to face Christina's death without me," she clarified. "I thought I had."

HG nodded and her gaze fell on the letter again. "You forgave yourself with the understanding that you had left me amongst people who could offer the support that you had wanted to," she hypothesised, and by the expression on her partner's face, she had hit the nail on the head. "Myka, when you left 1890, we were both cognisant of the sacrifices. I also knew that we would be reunited one day. My grandparents left me with no such reassurance. It is the perpetual deceptions with which I am more furious. Like yours were, I know that their reasons will be based on the belief that they were helping us. While I have issues with those reasons, they are not directly related to my anger towards my Norie and Grandpa."

"So, you don't feel any different about me leaving you?" Myka blurted as she finally put a finger on the reason for her disquiet.

Helena's stomach flipped like she'd missed the bottom stair. "Myka," she admonished gently before wrapping a hand around the back of her fiancée's neck. "I would always choose a life with you, no matter how _easy_ other options might appear in comparison, and the only way you could possibly have hurt me was if you had not returned to me in this century. You could not have done anything else."

"I know that," the brunette muttered in relief.

"Then you are being even more ridiculous than I first thought," Helena teased before guiding Myka's lips against her own.

It took the next half an hour of simply holding each other and remembering all that they had endured to finally reassure the American that, as a couple, they were as solid as ever.

"Helena?" Myka prompted once she felt ready.

Having allowed her mind to drift with the distracting scent of her lover's skin, HG replied absently, "Darling?"

"Read your letter now."

Shaking off her meandering thoughts, Helena leant forward to retrieve the envelope and waited only a heartbeat before painstakingly tearing it open. Two sheets of quality, embossed paper were pulled out and she cleared her throat as she unfolded the pages.

" _My dearest Helena..._ " she read and then quickly felt her voice desert her.

Tugging the letter from her partner's fingers, the brunette repositioned herself on the bed and took a steadying pause of her own: she was damned if she was going to let this experience be more arduous for the inventor than it had already been. At a small nod beside her, she began to read in a practised, professional manner.

_My Dearest Helena,_

_It is with a heavy heart that I begin to write this letter. Every breath takes your grandfather and me further from our home and family, and we leave with full knowledge of the fate that awaits you, my darling girl._

_I imagine you as I write this, missing us perhaps but full of life and hope, oblivious to the trials ahead. Since your beloved Myka returned to the future, I have agonised over the knowledge she left behind. I have watched you blossom into motherhood with our sweet Christina and so many times I have come close to divulging all._

_My dilemma, in essence, was this: to attempt to spare you the pain of feeling her loss but at the risk of erasing her from existence, or to betray your trust and seek to protect the life you deserve with your soul mate and little ones._

_Numerous regrets litter my past and future but I am making my bed and know that I must lie in it. I fear it is too late to turn back and I cannot concern myself with how I will face you when we meet again. This discomfort, this guilt that weighs on my conscience, I remind myself that it is nothing compared to what you will suffer, and I endure with that in mind. You are much stronger than I, Helena. I cannot help but feel proud of you in spite of the misfortunes you will inflict upon others in your rage. You are fire and air: beautiful in harmony but potentially lethal when provoked._

_I ask myself what you would have chosen. I do not believe that it is self-serving to assume that you would risk everything to return to Myka's side and with Christina by yours. I have little doubt that you would gladly spend a century in bronze to bring your family together. So what harm would it do to share these dark secrets with you? Perhaps none. Or equally, perhaps all would be lost. What then would you choose if there was even the slightest risk that knowing could bring everything you love tumbling down like a house of cards?_

_I wish I had thought to ask these things of you when we were at our closest. Before Mnemosyne took your memories of us. When you looked into my eyes and saw everything that I am. An opportunity missed and now I must act without your input. I should have dearly liked the company of your thoughts in these uncertain times. Alas, I am without, though as always, your grandfather works tirelessly to keep me from that precipice upon which I know you too will tread - self loathing and defeat._

_No matter what becomes of us, my darling, know that I love you and always will. While I do not expect you to forgive my transgressions, I hope that you will find it within yourself to accept my help when you need it._

_During the years we spent investigating the undercurrent of corruption within the Warehouse, Rupert and I compiled our findings. I will request that this letter be attached to that file. Most likely, you will feel that this information is falling into your hands a little late in the game. I can only apologise again for the understandable frustration you must feel and urge you to be patient. Caturanga was always fond of telling me that he fully expected you to beat him at chess: you only had to relax and learn to flow with the battle._

_It is selfish and thoughtless of me to be smiling as I end this missive, but I hold out hope that our paths will cross once again and that perhaps I can go some way to earning my redemption in your eyes. Until then, my love, I am..._

_Always and forever,_

_Your loving Grandmother,_

_Norie_

A solemn silence settled on the room once Myka's voice finished tasting the guilt-laden words of Eleanor Wells and very little moved save for the soundless tears that dripped from Helena's chin. Time passed unnoticed until the chiming of the doorbell announced Abigail's return.

It was obvious to the therapist that much had happened during her brief absence and for the rest of the afternoon, they chatted about secrets, betrayal and that damned letter. Only with her parting farewell did Ms Cho remind the couple not to dismiss the idea of their dreams for their family and the future. Conflict could be just as much a choice as hope.

 

* * * * *

 

"Really!?" Christina yelled with excitement as her parents explained that they were planning a family trip to Greece for a week. "I've been _desperate_ to visit Athens for ever such a long time now."

It was Tuesday dinnertime: two days after Claudia's visit and day two of the regents' time spent with Abigail. As they split the day to speak to the therapist individually, they politely declined Nadia's offer to take their son to the crèche again and took turns entertaining the toddler until his sister arrived home from school.

As Abigail left, just after lunchtime, Helena contacted Claudia to request a meeting. It had been agreed with their fellow regents that, in order to preserve the secrecy of Wonderland, none of the past agents should step foot there unless it was absolutely necessary. Though events had calmed somewhat, there was the ever present cautionary thought that their enemies were keeping tabs on them. If they were all to visit the same location often enough, suspicions would be raised.

Consequently, the inventor agreed an alternative with the Warehouse caretaker...

" _HG," the red head's voice bounced through the tablet's speakers with nervous excitement as she answered the WH-ype call. "Hey."_

" _Claudia," Helena acknowledged with a fraction of her usual enthusiasm. "Are they with you?" She asked without preamble._

" _I sent them on a tour of the island so they could 'blimey' everything."_

_The inventor bristled. "My grandparents do not say 'blimey'," she insisted indignantly. The moment the words were out of her mouth, she kicked herself for seeming over-interested. She ignored the muttered 'snob' from her fiancée._

" _You're right," the caretaker conceded quickly and then released an exaggerated 'good Lord!' "That's the one!"_

" _Claudia," the Brit tried again, her patience for her friend's eccentricities at an all time low._

" _What? Oh, yeah... Do you want me to get them?" she asked uncertainly._

" _That will not be necessary." Helena felt a lump rise in her throat with the resurgent reminder of who she was talking about and the reality that they were actually available to talk to. She took a breath to calm the pounding in her chest. "Myka and I have questions for you, Mrs Fredrick, our fellow regents and... our latest arrivals. We should like to meet with all of you this weekend."_

" _This weekend?" Claudia squeaked. She might have become a powerful piece in this game, but her Victorian friend still made her nervous at times like this._

_HG's tone adopted an edge and her eyes narrowed. "Did I swallow my words?"_

" _I'll try."_

" _Miss Donovan," Helena began, her voice taking on a dangerously silky tone. "I believe there is a little, green man whom you often like to emulate, who recognises no such notion of 'trying'. Imagine for a moment that I am he, though with far less patience."_

" _Do or do not; there is no try," the red head supplied the quote._

" _Precisely."_

She felt bad for putting Claudia in that position but at the same time, she was fed up with feeling like a piece on a chessboard. Agreeing to become regents was supposed to give her and Myka more authority but so far they had only been given chance to pay lip service to the role. It was time to finally air out the Warehouse's dirty laundry and they didn't plan on letting the matter rest until they were satisfied with the answers they were given.

"Athens is one place where none of us have ever ventured. It promises to be an enlightening trip," Helena responded to her daughter's enthusiastic exclamation.

"May I plan our trip?" the pre-teen asked as she cleared the last morsel from her plate and set her cutlery down. "There has to be a ton of things to do there."

The adults exchanged a look that crossed between unconditional love for their eldest and a silent query of how much they should divulge of their ulterior agenda. With experiencing their own frustrations over their family keeping secrets, they had been forced to look at the decisions they made in regards to their daughter. While reassured that _their_ choice to withhold information was largely due to Christina's age, they knew that they would have to sit down with the girl eventually and there was some debate over how soon that conversation should take place. As a child who displayed a maturity beyond her years, just how young was too young? While they knew that the cats would find a way out of the bag before the girl turned nineteen, there was no definitive date for them to adhere to.

"Of course you can, Sweetheart," Myka began with an indulgent smile. "Mummy and I will need a couple of days free to attend to some Warehouse business and we'll be calling the school to ask for any work you might miss, but other than those things, we would be happy to follow your lead."

"You will need to consider Fredrick's schedule, love," HG reminded her daughter gently.

"I know, Mum," Christina replied brightly. "Who's going to look after us while you're working?" she wondered aloud.

"Tracy and Kevin are joining us," Myka replied, having called her sister immediately following Helena's conversation with Claudia. Thankfully, the couple were more than willing to rearrange a few things to tag along; the alternative would probably have been to face their colleagues individually, leaving one of them to watch the children. They worked better as a team.

"What about Grandpa and Grandma? Will they be joining us too?" she continued to quiz her parents as she grabbed her plate and took it to the dishwasher. "Have you finished, Mama?"

"Yes, Sweetie, I've finished thank you." The brunette marvelled at her daughter's gentle manners and watched Christina clear the table piece by piece. "Grandpa won't leave the shop at such short notice. He much prefers travelling by imagination anyway. He says there are fewer irritating tourists."

"Tourists who would be grateful for his choice," HG muttered offhandedly and tried to appear inscrutable when green eyes narrowed on her.

"But writers have to live and have experiences - that's what my teacher says. Mummy, you've had lots of adventures and you're a marvellous writer," the girl chattered on, almost entirely to herself, while she pottered about the kitchen and pulled faces at her brother.

The inventor smirked and sat up a little straighter. "Why, thank you, love."

Both regents had noticed a definite shift in their daughter's behaviour since the girl had begun to attend mainstream school. It was almost as if she had an excess amount of energy at the end of each day and just had to move around to rid herself of it. By Myka's recollection, much of the scholastic system involved sitting at desks and working from textbooks where in comparison, Helena's lessons with their daughter had kept them on their feet a lot of the time, forever exploring. Christina admitted readily that her Mummy's teachings were more interesting but since she had made a few friends, and had found a niche within the student population, she was content to compromise. Her parents rarely stopped teaching anyway so, for the most part, she had the best of both worlds.

The day eventually wound down and it was soon time for bed. Christina had developed a habit of having her bath while her parents were settling her brother for the evening. Once she was finished, they would cuddle together in the living room and read or sit with a puzzle while one of them dried her hair and brushed it to a high shine. It was time for just the three of them and while she usually sneaked off before her bedtime to read a chapter of whatever novel had captured her imagination, she cherished that hour that they had to spend together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I got Yoda right here; there're always things that I don't have time to research.
> 
> Reviews are greatly appreciated.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos. I'd be grateful to hear any thoughts you have about where this story is going, particularly after this chapter ;-)

Helena tapped her toe along to the anxious drumming of her fiancée’s fingers against the wooden tabletop.

After the chaos of travelling with two toddlers and an over-excited pre-teen, the Bering/Wells/Littlewood family spent their first day in Greece acclimatising themselves with their immediate vicinity.

Myka and Helena had managed to put aside their fear and anger over what today might bring as they explored the market and tasted the local delicacies, but now that the time had arrived for their meeting, all of those repressed, conflicting emotions raced back in full force.

Reaching across the table as the drilling rhythm became too much for her, Helena wrapped Myka’s fingers around her own and squeezed gently as a show of support. “Remember what we agreed?” she asked needlessly.

The curly-haired regent spotted the nervousness behind her partner’s question before it could annoy her: she _always_ remembered. “We don’t let them avoid anything but we’re not here to start a shouting match.”

“I want answers,” Helena grumbled into the room, her words clearly highlighting for whom the reminder was needed.

“We both do,” Myka assured her and leant in to plant a last kiss on the inventor’s cheek before the start of their long day.

Heavy, measured footsteps and muffled voices announced the arrival of the first attendees and all fidgeting from the newest regents ceased as Adwin Kosan and Don Heath entered the cosy conference room. There was no hint of anxiety or annoyance in either of their expressions, but instead they appeared resigned and collected.

“Mr Kosan, Mr Heath, you might like to help yourselves to refreshments before we begin,” Regent Wells directed firmly. “If it has to, this meeting will proceed through the entire day.”

Adwin’s demeanour didn’t waver as he followed the suggestion. “That was very thoughtful of you, Helena, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me; at this point, I care rather less about your comfort than the information you are going to provide,” HG threw back at him. “It was Myka’s idea.”

As the head regent nodded her way instead, Regent Bering shrugged nonchalantly. “I just didn’t want to give anyone an excuse to leave before we have what we’re owed.”

“Well,” Don interjected, following his colleague’s lead. “Whatever the reason, it’s appreciated.”

Not far behind the men, Jane Lattimer and Mrs Fredrick followed. They were greeted in a similarly icy fashion but while Pete’s mother bristled at the treatment they received, Irene merely conjured a box full of home-made cookies, seemingly out of nowhere, and sat them on the table before turning to fix herself a cup of tea.

“I imagined that we might be here for some time,” the ex-caretaker explained as she gestured to her offering. “It wouldn’t do to have people turning to leave in search of sustenance before we’ve finished, would it? You brought the files I see,” she continued as she finally sat down. “I trust that you’ve explored their contents?”

“We’ll begin when everyone is here,” Helena insisted as her gaze flickered once more to the door, anticipation growing hot in her belly.

“No one else will be joining us today,” Irene informed the couple with a marginally gentler tone.

HG heard the words and felt her stomach drop. Disappointment surged along her every nerve ending and she felt Myka’s hand tighten around hers under the table while tears pricked at the back of her eyes. The unexpected abruptness of this overload of emotions threw her off course and she did nothing but stare at the coffee coloured woman for several seconds.

“You both called this meeting because you have many questions regarding the history of the Warehouse, the prospects of events yet to pass and your family’s role within all of that,” Mr Kosan explained patiently. “Correct?”

“Yes,” Myka answered for herself and her partner.

“I imagine you are both angry enough without adding further catalysts into the mix,” the head regent continued kindly. “Hopefully, after today, you will have fewer concerns and may yet avoid too heated a reunion with your grandparents, Miss Wells.”

The couple exchanged a meaningful look and each felt an unexpected ripple of relief from the other. “That’s probably for the best,” Myka responded once she was sure that she and Helena were on the same page.

“I suggest we get this show on the road then,” Jane butted in, still sounding slightly peeved. “Where do you want us to start?”

“Did you know that my grandparents were alive?” HG jumped right in. The room was evenly split; Two ‘nos’ and two ‘yeses’ filled her ears and she turned back to the former caretaker. “Only you two knew?”

“My sister, Gloria, the original caretaker of Warehouse 13, was the one who helped them to store their matter so that it could be delivered to the here and now. When she died in the fire that destroyed the first building, her mantel passed on to me, along with the knowledge of what she’d done, and the instructions on when to release them.”

“Did Claudia know?” Helena demanded.

“Many secrets became known to her when she integrated with Warehouse 14. I convinced her that you would know soon enough. You were settling into a new house, building vital relationships and protection for your family. After a hundred years, what was one or two more?” she confessed. “Miss Donovan wanted to help you in whatever way she could.”

Myka sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re manipulating Claudia too?” Looking around the room, she noticed surprise on all the regents’ faces.

“Why?” HG added.

Mrs Fredrick relaxed further into her seat, her gaze unwavering and inscrutable as she looked round at her friends and colleagues. “That is the number one question isn’t it, Miss Wells.” She clasped her hands together on the table. “Why is any of this happening? Why does the Warehouse exist at all?”

“Irene,” Adwin called her attention from along the table. “What are you talking about?”

“I apologise,” the ever-composed woman said. “You came here for answers but I fear I am getting a little ahead of myself. Where were we?”

Through their bond, Myka could feel her lover’s confusion mingle with her own. “You were going to tell us why you felt like you had to manipulate Claudia.”

“It is the caretaker’s responsibility to put the needs of the Warehouse first. As we accept the role, we become a part of it. Its needs become ours. It was not a manipulation but a compulsion.” Irene took a long breath and released it slowly. “I am old. Older even than you, Miss Wells. And I am tired. I finally see new wrinkles appear in the mirror and I welcome them. Still, I would like to see my life’s work come to fruition.”

“Enough riddles!” HG cried. “Just answer a simple question – are the caretakers slaves to the Warehouse?”

Mrs Fredrick chuckled. The sound moved around the room like a snake, putting everyone on edge. “Yes and no. It is not as simple as you might imagine. Her will is her own but her priorities mesh with those of the Warehouse. Almost like we become one mind. If Claudia’s priority is higher, she will choose to act upon it.”

“And if the Warehouse’s priority is higher?” Myka asked, though she was almost afraid of the answer.

“She will act upon it as if it was her will to begin with,” Irene answered seriously. “We put an enormous amount of faith in it. I may have questioned my decisions over the years, but I truly believe that the Warehouse has not led me astray, and neither will it do so to Claudia.”

“Why does the Warehouse need us?” Helena continued the inquisition, beginning to feel that the current rabbit hole was too deep to explore in one day. The more answers they uncovered, the worse their situation seemed and she had to believe that there was light at the end of the tunnel. “You said that you and Claudia were compelled into action but for what purpose? Why has the Warehouse played such a strong hand in shaping our destinies?”

“That has always been unclear,” Mr Kosan answered, appearing relieved to be able to contribute something to the discussion. “Ancient prophesies have been inherited from Warehouse to Warehouse. They speak of an uprising between houses and one who will lead us to victory over our enemies.”

“A prophesy made by whom?” Regent Bering asked after a short pause. Like her fiancée, she was seeing nothing but doom and more questions in their answers. They had requested this meeting with the expectation that they would be in for a fight. What they were getting instead was almost beyond belief.

“There is conjecture to suggest that they were merely the ravings of a lunatic, or at the very least, that there was an artefact involved.” Mr Kosan levelled his gaze at the couple across the table as he almost whispered his next words. “However, if we are to take the prophesies at face value, they were dictated to a scribe during a campaign of Alexander the Great.”

* * * * *

Meghan ignored the wheelchair next to her bed as she struggled to her feet and limped from the infirmary. After three days of lying around, she was itching to move again and following her failure to infiltrate her uncle’s inner circle, she needed to appear strong.

Having always felt like something of an outsider as an agent, she was used to working alone and confiding in no one. Her family’s expectations and pressures only encouraged that need to keep a distance from her colleagues, but from the moment she stepped foot inside the Warehouse, she had not been able to shake the sense of loyalty she felt towards it.

As they’d discovered her in a foster home during her late teens, her family had always seemed madly obsessed by their beliefs. Relived to have roots and a home for once, she had ignored the constant questions in the back of her mind and blindly followed their strange requests.

It had taken a while but now she saw them for what they were: zealots.

Discovering her familial link to Steve had put the final nail in the coffin for her and the moment Regent Congrave had contacted her with another task, she had chosen her side. Mrs Fredrick’s bunch of misfits might appear unorganised and incompetent at times, and she still could not take to the Victorian inventor, but their ever-present desire to fight against tyranny and help those who couldn’t help themselves, appealed to the small child she had once been. A child who had dreamed of knights, adventures and heroic rescues.

Reality might not be much like the dream: she was still waiting for her horse and sword, but if her actions helped then it would be worth the effort.

A shame then, that her mission had failed so spectacularly.

She found Claudia walking the grounds with the two time travellers. She wasn’t sure what to think of the couple yet. Thought if she was honest with herself, their story had at least afforded her with a modicum of sympathy for Helena. It was easier to see how she could have made such horrible choices when she had been abandoned by those she loved most. There was something calming about the two regents despite their upper class demeanours and precise way of speaking. Meghan had tried to dislike them on principal, but within an hour of talking to the two of them, she found the task impossible.

Deciding that she really didn’t feel like being alone, Meghan hobbled her way across the grass, ignoring the paved path, and intercepted the trio. “Claudia... And Mr and Mrs Wells," she added uncertainly.

“Miss Coombs,” Eleanor greeted the injured woman. “Should you not still be resting?”

Meghan shrugged. “Nurse said I could wander round. Didn’t feel much like pullin’ wheelies round the quad,” she explained her lack of assistance. “Don’t much like no one fussin’ round me y’know?”

“My dear, you endured a harrowing experience,” Eleanor chuckled. “You are entitled to enjoy a little extra pampering.”

“S’ok _if_ you enjoy it,” the agent countered.

“I suppose I see your point,” the older woman conceded.

“Did you venture out simply to take a breath of fresh air or was there something else on your mind?” Rupert asked, having seen the troubled expression on the young American’s face when she’d made her way over.

“You a mind reader, Mr Wells?” Miss Coombs tried to joke.

“Simply observant,” he replied with a patient smile.

Her interest piqued, Claudia watched the injured agent more closely. “Did you remember something new?”

“I think so... Not too sure actually: I had a dream and it was like bein’ back there only... not.”

_The room was clear of furniture except for the chair she’d been tied to and a table laid with various sharp implements. No sound but for her own ragged breathing and the occasional drip of her blood on pristine tiles._

_It was too bright; the overhead light pierced her eyes even behind closed lids and she had to wonder whether she had a concussion. Minutes passed like hours, her imagination creating demons out of shadows, causing her heart to pound a rhythm that surely wasn’t sustainable over a long period._

_Beginning to wish that they’d come back and hit her some more, the undercover agent called out into the empty space, taunting her captors. Nothing. What if they were done with her? What if they’d just decided that she was no longer useful? Had she ever been useful?_

_It wasn’t as if she’d ever really managed to pull off one of their covert drops, when they had tried to plant something sinister inside the Warehouse, or to provide information that made them happy. Was that why they were really doing this, rather than discovering that she was working for the enemy?_

_With no way to tell the time, she had no idea how many hours passed before she finally sensed something new. Muffled voices – one low and quick (her uncle, though he sounded nervous now), and the other firm and lilting._

_(They could have been saying anything, their words were too distorted to make out and some part of her conscious mind told her that, at the time, she had witnessed none of their conversation, but in her dream something peculiar began to happen.)_

_Like she’d suddenly been catapulted out of her body, she was flying across the room and through a wall. Regent Congrave knelt on a rug before a fireplace where another man stood, staring into the flickering flames._

_“Her blood is weak,” the unknown gent announced, his voice barely above a whisper. “My father’s lineage sits not well within her veins. Our family does not tolerate weakness, cousin,” he spat, as if it pained him to admit any relationship with the other man. “If she shows no reaction to the relic, kill her. You will waste no more time on this foolish pursuit. It is as I suspected, the guardian cannot be touched. Not Yet. I have allowed you too much time with this already.”_

“Dunno why that came to me this mornin’,” Meghan shrugged, feeling self-conscious with three pairs of eyes on her. “I swear I don’t actually remember that happenin’, but I do remember feelin’ this mega need to get out. It all happened so fast.”

“Still can’t remember how you got to Univille?”

“Nah. No idea where they was holdin’ me.” Meghan felt a cramp shoot along her left calf and flinched. “Think someone might’ve noticed a battered woman roamin’ the streets though, eh?”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” the redhead muttered to herself.

The regents exchanged a look that didn’t go unnoticed by the others. Rupert squared his shoulders and took a breath. “During our research, we looked into the history of our regents and their families. Helena has the information now. I recall digging into the archives to discover much about a particular family and their ancestry. The conflict we are preparing for dates back much further than any of us anticipated.”

* * * * *

“Alexander the Great?” Myka repeated, needing clarification for once as her brain refused to process how they could possibly be linked to the Macedon ruler.

Helena thought she saw where this was going though. “The curator of Warehouse 1,” she supplied to the room.

“Indeed,” Mr Kosan nodded. “Even as a great leader, Alexander could not cheat the reaper. All of the stability that he built during his reign came crashing down after his death. Between his two sons and some of his closest friends, civil war broke out and his empire began to crumble.”

“How is this in any way connected to us? What happened with the Warehouse?” Helena prodded the head regent to continue.

“Before his death, he foresaw the conflict between his sons and knew that the prize they fought to control was the Warehouse. However, word of what he was doing reached his son, Heracles and the young man took steps to stop his father. Knowing that the artefacts he’d collected were too dangerous for any one man to have control over, he found a way to bind his spirit with the building so that he could keep it out of their reach. He charged his best friend and half-sister, Cynane with being his physical presence and took steps to ensure that the Warehouse was protected by the greatest powers of the period.”

“That ‘physical presence’ became the first caretaker?” Myka surmised. “So Claudia is taking orders from Alexander the Great?”

“And from the best parts of the thirteen caretakers who came before her. And from the best parts of herself,” Mrs Fredrick added. “The Warehouse is forever evolving, but always with the same goal; to keep its contents from falling into the wrong hands.”

“So he saw his sons fighting for control but he prevented the possibility of them taking it. Who did he foresee in our future?” the inventor asked as she began to extrapolate.

“He temporarily prevented the possibility,” Adwin corrected.

Simultaneous shivers shook the couple. As they considered that statement, Helena sank in her chair. “You are telling us that you believe one of his sons will return to claim the Warehouse?”

“In the years after his brother died, Heracles came across an artefact that allowed him to inhabit the body of his son. Over time, he manipulated his bloodline to keep it ‘pure’ and to ensure that he would have no siblings when he inhabited a new body. On each transfer, his old body would die. In this way, he has survived through the ages, waiting for the time when the Warehouse is as its weakest,” the head regent continued.

Having calmed somewhat from her earlier irritation, Jane leaned forward. “To cut a long story short,” she began with a slight eye roll directed toward her dramatic colleagues. “Political unrest has always existed but one clear power has stood out against others. Recent decades have seen subtle and massive shifts. The Warehouse not only seeks protection from its host country, but it feeds off the successes of the country’s leaders.” She took a breath and appeared to think for a moment as her expression became more serious. “For the first time in over two thousand years, the Warehouse has chosen to position itself on the sidelines. It is in conflict with its own nature.”

“It must adapt or fall,” Don added simply from his quiet spot at the table.

Seeing the same ‘how is this connected to us’ expressions on both of the new regents faces, Irene picked up the threads of the story. “While Heracles has made every effort to keep track of his lineage and manipulate the potency of his bloodline in relation to his father, another branch of his family tree exists in close competition. Cynane’s descendants live among us.”

Helena threw her hands through her hair and muttered to the ceiling, “Do not tell me...”

“You are a direct descendant,” Mrs Fredrick confirmed the inventor’s suspicion.

“And so are Christina and Freddy,” Myka choked.

Regardless of what they’d understood of their children’s destiny after their daughter had travelled back from the future, hearing this confirmation sent a jolt of panic through both mothers.

“Bloody hell,” Helena exclaimed without forethought. “What are we to be subjected to next?”

Irene’s previously unfazed expression hardened and she zeroed in on the inventor. “Do not think that you are the only one who has suffered in all of this, Miss Wells. I had to lose my father and my sister in order to be brought to the Warehouse and since then, I have had to watch my husband, children and even some of my grandchildren grow old and die, while I remained unchanged.” Seeing the continuing battle in the couple’s eyes, she continued to hammer her point home, “Sacrifices were made, are being made, by all of those around us in order to provide your daughter with her best chance of saving us all.”

In her defensive state, HG wasn’t quick to back down though. “Leave Christina out of this!”

“That is an impossible task, Helena.” The ex-caretaker pushed on. “It is more certain than ever that she will be the one to lead us to victory. All of this is for her.”

It was one thing to know that your child was destined for great things but another to hear how others planned to exploit them. In Helena’s mind, the Warehouse was far too eager to dismiss Christina as an individual. “She is not a tool!”

“Yes she is!” Irene barked back, catching everyone off guard. Watching anger begin to boil again behind dark eyes, she hastened to explain, her tone softening enough to halt any impending outbursts. “As are we all. To believe otherwise would be naive.”

“She’s our baby,” Myka argued, sounding like she might be on the brink of tears.

“And _our_ saviour.” Irene responded kindly. “Simply because she is needed does not mean that she is unappreciated. She is precious to more than just the two of you.” She turned her gaze back on the Brit, eyes full of compassion now. “None of us want to see her hurt. We are doing everything in our power to be prepared for what will come. Your grandparents especially. Do not assume that the choices they made came easily. All they ever wanted for you was to see you reunited with your soul mate.”

It suddenly dawned on the couple how big the issue really was and how blissful it had been to be ignorant of the whole deal. Still, they could not have sat in the dark any longer and in order to be ready for Alexander’s heir, they needed time to adjust and prepare. As the bleak silence stretched on, Myka and Helena’s colour continued to drain from their faces, leaving them pale and ill-looking. Despite earlier intentions, they all agreed to break for an hour to absorb and regroup.

The moment they were alone again, Myka rose from her chair and stalked towards the window to stare out at the pedestrian traffic, while tense fingers scraped through her curls. Behind her, Helena was frozen in place, her mind whirring, fast forwarding to her babies growing up and facing this foe. She glanced at her fiancée through blurred vision and felt her past guilt resurge. Without her, none of this would be happening to Myka. Christina and Fredrick would not exist and so would never have to be in danger.

Imagining her life without any of them was like experiencing an electric shock though. The horror that accompanied that hollow thought jolted her abruptly out of her self-depreciation.

_This is hardly your fault and changing the past is a feat you have failed at before. Myka would no sooner blame you than she would wish it all away. Have you learned nothing? Go to her!_

These fierce thoughts forced her from her mannequin position and across the room. While numb to the world, she had unknowingly cut Myka off but the moment she allowed that link to reopen, her lover’s emotions flooded her own, drowning any remaining doubt with a deadly determination. Myka wasn’t wasting time wallowing; she was setting her sights on their goal.

Feeling Helena’s arms wrap around her waist, the brunette pulled her closer and sank back into the embrace. “Glad to see you’ve decided to make sense in that thick head of yours,” she teased lightly, knowing that she wasn’t exempt from the same reflex.

“I think I came around rather swiftly this time,” HG responded, acknowledging the fact that she had a tendency to fall back on thoughts of her mistakes and their consequences. The woman in her arms made a non-committal sound and she pressed a kiss to a soft cheek. “I have to say, in comparison, my grandparents’ falsifying their deaths somewhat pales.”

“They’ve all just been guessing. Remember what Rupert said about him and Norie before Christina and I came home? There was some discussion about them being in our position but the Warehouse not being ready. That would’ve made you the ‘chosen one’,” she joked half-heartedly.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she’d have preferred that, but Helena held it back, realising again that doing so would be thinking her family into obscurity once more. “They know both more and not as much as we thought.”

“A paradox.”

“Indeed.”

“What now?” Myka whispered into the ether.

Helena sighed. “I suppose we must find out what other pieces they have and then we can start to pull the puzzle together.”

Silence enveloped them for several minutes and they stood together, thinking on the past, present and future. Despite their initial consternation, the fear that had gripped them both began to fade: years of developed confidence rising within each of their bodies and dragging them from a bog of doubt. Hadn’t they defeated the odds before? They were living representatives of the impossible and together they had achieved so much. What was another tyrant in the face of their unstoppable love?

“We will not let this break us,” Myka insisted once she felt her emotions finally settle. She turned in the embrace and grasped tightly to the inventor as she gazed into mahogany eyes. “You and I have crossed the fabric of time to find each other. I don’t care how long this wannabe prince has bided his time because we are stronger. If Christina has to be a part of this... If our family is destined to fight him, then we will raise a force to be reckoned with – a force built by love,” she finished, her intense stare flashing a brilliant green with the power of her words.

Helena fed off her lover’s surety and smiled. “Bering and Wells,” she began with a twinkle in her eyes. “Solving puzzles and saving the day.”

Myka smirked with confidence. She leant closer, her warm breath brushing the inventor’s jaw as she whispered controversially into her ear, “Wells and Bering.”

* * * * *

No one appeared to bat an eyelid when they reconvened to find that the atmosphere had calmed significantly. They pulled out the research passed down from Rupert and Eleanor, combining it with everything they’d discovered in recent years and began to create a picture of their investigation.

Heracles’ family tree branched away from the movement of the Warehouse and then subtly back again over many years. Irene and Adwin continued to surprise them with new additions and by the end of the afternoon all of their suspects, alive and (assumed) dead, littered the table. The couple were unsurprised to see Agent Kipling amongst their adversaries and Helena glared at the picture of the odious man for several seconds, willing the paper to spontaneously combust.

“How is it that, in two thousand years, we’re just discovering all of these connections?” Myka wondered as they began to wrap up for the day. “I mean, I understand that he laid low for a very long time but surely _something_ had to have pinged on the radar before now. He’s amassed a sizable force, and these are only the ones that we know about. Plus, infiltrating the regency. Eleanor and Rupert suspected as much but it doesn’t look like they found anything concrete.”

“Most of these people are probably little more than cannon fodder.” Helena’s left hand lingered over a picture of Regent Congrave and two of his family members. “You are certain that she can be trusted?” she asked as her index finger tapped close to Meghan’s head.

“She had no reason to come to us,” Jane commented in the agent’s defence.

“Unless she was ordered to,” Myka countered, reading her partner’s mind.

“Let’s face it,” HG added with a small shrug. “It wouldn’t be the first time that you misplaced your trust in an agent.”

“With your fiancée on our side, Miss Wells, I’m certain we will avoid any world-ending events,” Adwin joked uncharacteristically. “Experience has taught us to be cautious though. Miss Coombs was not above agreeing to a few stringent tests to prove her loyalty. She recently attempted to turn the tide for us but it appears that it didn’t turn out well.”

“Is she ok?” Myka asked, her natural concern for a fellow agent rearing its head. Agent Coombs had always rubbed her the wrong way but she had provided results and never put anyone in danger with her antics while working. She couldn’t say the same thing about Pete or Helena.

“She will recover from her injuries. I think being confined to the island for the foreseeable future will be the real test.” The head regent’s gaze twitched towards Irene as he reminded them of what they were discussing. “Back to your question, Miss Bering; the only people who had access to this information were the caretakers.”

Irene appeared unaffected by the eyes that suddenly honed in on her again. “As you have seen, the Warehouse has been under threat from attempted infiltrations for some time now. It was important to wait until the optimum time to divulge everything.”

Helena looked sceptical as she sighed and sank back into her chair. “Is this everything?”

“It is all that I am able to comprehend of the Warehouse’s wishes up until the point that Claudia assumed my position. More than that, I cannot say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wikipedia was my source of choice for Alexander the Great so I think it goes without saying that anything written about him in this story should be taken with a pinch of salt. Plus, I've taken some artistic licence with his family members and the relationships between them. I think we're all used to this when it comes to the Warehouse though eh?


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so here we go with the last chapter for Part One of The Brides. I've started Part Two, but it'll take a few weeks before I have anything worth posting. I'm tentatively hoping around Easter, but we'll see.
> 
> In hindsight, I probably could have given these last eight chapters their own title as we've not seen much in the way of weddings yet, but that's just the way things worked out. Shrugs.
> 
> Kudos are great and comments are much appreciated. Muses and motivation are fickle things!
> 
> This one has many feels. Not entirely a happy 'end', but lots of fluff coming in Part Two.

Myka squeezed her partner’s hand as they approached the conference room where they had spent most of the previous day. Now that they were all clearer about their place in the game, some of the anger that they fostered towards their colleagues began to wane. Having accepted some time ago that they had to prepare for a future where conflict would find their family, they chose to focus their energies on solutions rather than continuing to bang their heads against the stubborn habits of their contemporaries.

Once they decided to let go of that festering indignation, they were able to see some of the logic and necessity in holding into strict secrets. They didn’t like being on the receiving end any better but the thought became something of a balm on a wound. If it meant that it helped to keep Christina safe in the long run, they would suck up their distaste and get on with the task of defending their family.

Where it might be easier to let go in regards to a co-worker, trying not to feel resentful towards a parental figure was nigh on impossible. As the couple stood on the threshold of reuniting with Helena’s grandparents, neither one could say what they felt or how they thought they might react once that door opened.

To Helena’s inner child, it didn’t matter what excuses Rupert and Eleanor had for abandoning her, just that they had done so in full knowledge of how dark her future would be. As Abigail had pointed out, some wounds only healed over time. It was encumbered upon her to make the first move and to open herself to the possibility of accepting any explanation or apology they might attempt.

Entering her thoughts since yesterday were images of her grandmother helping her to dress for her wedding and her grandfather escorting her down the aisle towards Myka. She envisioned photos of their family on the mantelpiece, bold in colour and so alive that it brought tears to her eyes. She thought about introducing them to her in-laws, showing them her home, her friends and best of all: her small but oh so precious family. She longed for them to say how proud they were of her achievements in all walks of life, just as a fearful part of her dreaded their disappointment and rejection.

Hope was insidious by its very nature. It was suggestive: that faith would deliver you to a better place, but it was hardly a guarantee. Fiery torment might greet you just as equally as rainbows and sunbeams, and yet Helena was not immune to its magnetism.

Myka held them back before they were in arms-length of the door and turned her lover towards her. “Helena, no matter what, don’t be afraid of what you feel. I won’t leave your side unless you want me to and whether you want to go or stay, I’ll follow your lead.” She brushed a gentle kiss against the corner of a mouth. “I love you.”

Following on from Mrs Fredrick’s impassioned speech, the curly-haired American felt her anger softening. She was still hurt on behalf of her lover, but in hindsight, she could see how limited her future in-laws had been in their choices. Irene was right; no one had an easy ride when it came to duty verses family in light of the Warehouse’s imperatives. They had to remember all the progress they’d made and were still making. Knowledge might have changed their perspective but circumstances remained the same and they had been doing well to live in the present with so much hanging over their heads.

HG stroked along her fiancée’s arms in a comforting gesture. “Once I’ve had a chance to vent, I’m sure we’ll get along swimmingly,” she attempted to joke. “To be honest though, love, most of my fire has already burned out.”

Myka smirked. “Shame. I’m sure they’re looking forward to a good roasting.”

Smiles faded almost entirely as they finally pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room had changed overnight; the table had been moved against the far wall and the chairs stacked next to it. Two small couches replaced them, offering a cosier atmosphere to the room. Whether the change had a significant effect or not, the air was still tense as four pairs of eyes met and acknowledged one another.

Eleanor’s gasp reached across the room and wrapped itself around Helena’s heart before squeezing. Feeling as if every last breath of air was being forced from her lungs, the inventor froze on the spot as she struggled with her need to run. Usually, when it came to fight or flight, she opted for the former but not with her grandmother. Emotions surrounding their relationship were messy now and she hated being overwhelmed by them.

As Helena gazed upon their faces though, she didn’t see the heartless monsters she had begun to imagine in her worst nightmares. She saw the man who had lifted her onto his shoulders to see over a crowd and the woman who had soothed nightmares and accepted her before anyone else. She saw two people whom she loved dearly and for a moment, nothing else mattered.

One halting step forward became two and in seconds, Helena flew across the room into her grandmother’s arms. An agonised sob rose and died in her throat while grief poured from beneath tightly closed lids.

Rupert sank his fingers into raven hair and wrapped an arm around his wife’s back to bring both women closer. He watched a look of tormented relief pass over his beloved’s eyes before they closed and blocked the world out. Across the room, he saw Myka’s hand cover what little sound she let escape and knew that the American was suffering along with her soul mate.

“You left me,” Helena’s muffled voice struggled past tight chords and thick fabric.

Not allowing herself the luxury of tears, Eleanor breathed in her little girl and forced her words past pale lips. “I know, my darling... I am so sorry,” she choked. “We tried to find another way. We should have found another way.”

“It broke our hearts to lie to you, dear,” Mr Wells added as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Myka tiptoed forward, hearing the groan that escaped her fiancée along with the anger that she could feel bubbling back up from within the inventor. As Helena stiffened and pulled away, the elder couple’s arms dropped limply away and Myka closed the gap to take her partner’s hand in her own. They shared a look and HG managed a shuddering sigh before turning back to face her grandparents.

Helena accepted the tissue that appeared in her free hand and, feeling suddenly weary, led Myka to a seat on one of the couches. “When did you decide that jumping ship was the best ruse?” she asked, her accusative tone belaying the childlike response from moments before.

Resigned to the idea of being interrogated, Eleanor sat opposite her granddaughter and began to answer the questions as best she could. “Not for a long time, darling.”

“We worried that our presence might interfere with your actions after losing Christina,” Rupert added. “For a long time, we explored the possibility of releasing you from that burden.”

“Failing to save her was largely due to one factor – time is too fickle a thing to play with,” Mrs Wells explained. “Truly, our thoughts did not turn to the new world or the future until we were directed to scout out the Warehouse’s new location and the Chronos Stone fell into our laps.”

“There were no _good_ options, Helena. You weren’t to know about our professional association with Warehouse 12 and we were concerned that you would follow us rather than pursue your own path if you thought us alive and well overseas.”

A war raged in the younger Wells’ mind, “Good intentions do not diminish the effects of your actions. However, having made rather less thoughtful decisions in regards to _my_ loved ones, I do not have the moral high ground with which to judge you.”

“My dear,” Eleanor began, her body leaning forward automatically in an attempt to offer comfort. “We have wronged you, not the other way around. Judge us as you will; our good opinion of you will remain as it ever was.”

“Helena,” Rupert spoke in turn. “And Myka. We would be honoured to be accepted into your lives again but we understand that it will not be an easy transition even if you chose to do so. Either way, we will strive to protect you.”

“Please do not feel as if we expect your forgiveness,” the greying woman continued for her husband. “Might I suggest that you take some time to consider your feelings on the matter? We will remain as guests of Miss Donovan’s in the meantime. There is no need for haste.”

Despite her conflicted thoughts, HG felt relieved by her grandmother’s suggestion. She wasn’t ready to let go of her hurt but equally, she was afraid that telling them to give her space would result in her losing them all over again. Though the words sat precariously on the tip of her tongue, it was Myka who answered for them.

“We’ll talk about how we want to proceed. Helena, do you want to stay here a little longer or meet up with Tracy and the kids?”

Looking into compassionate green, she knew to trust the promise Myka had given her before entering the room. It was up to her; she could choose whatever she preferred. “Would you give us a moment, darling, before we take our leave?”

Myka smiled and with thumb and fingers cupping a proud chin, pulled Helena’s mouth towards her own to brush a kiss against her lips. “I’ll be right outside. Take as much time as you need.” She gathered herself and stood, offering the elder two a wan smile before retreating to the door and leaving the Wells trio alone.

Wanting to spend as little time without her lover as possible, HG barely waited for the latch to click into place before she began. “Four years ago, I hunted down the Minoan Trident and tried to plunge the world into a new ice-age.” Seeing less surprise than she’d imagined, Helena knew that they must have already had the highlights. “Myka put a gun in my hand, placed it against her head and told me to stop being a coward and pull the trigger. For a split second, I considered it,” she spat, loathing the tortured woman she’d been all over again. “I was so mired in my own despair that I was a shaky finger away from murdering my soul mate.”

A silent tear slipped unnoticed from her grandmother’s eye while her grandfather’s fingers turned white from gripping the couch cushion beneath his hand. Helena studied her toes for several seconds while she gathered the courage to continue.

“I do not say this to lay blame at your feet. My mistakes are my own. You have to know from me how far from grace I fell. I committed other unspeakable evils but that moment was my tipping point. Myka taught me to love and live again, but she also showed me what it means to forgive. Particularly those we love... If we begin down this path; if we’re to be a family again, there must be no more lies, no more secrets or misdirection. While Myka and I discuss how to go forward, I need the two of you to think long and hard about your willingness to be transparent with your intentions from now on.”

As Helena brought her request to a finish and stood to leave, the older time-travellers continued to sit in subdued silence. It was only when the inventor swivelled on her heel that Eleanor’s voice called after the younger Brit, stopping her in her tracks.

Mrs Wells closed the widening distance and reached for her granddaughter’s face. “No matter your mistakes, you fought and picked yourself up time and again. Do not forget your strengths in times of doubt, Little One. You have never and could never fail to make us proud of you.”

* * * * *

Tears had framed the inventor’s eyes when she eventually emerged from her private moment with her grandparents but Myka, even if she hadn’t been able to guess, felt enough through their bond that she didn’t need to ask for an explanation. They ate a quiet lunch while gathering their tangled emotions and then hopped on a bus that trundled through the busy streets back to their hotel.

A quick message to Tracy let them know that the rest of their party were in the National Gardens, getting snap happy with their cameras. A leisurely walk in companionable silence brought them before the Zappion building where they found their son and nephew gambolling over Kevin on the grass, and Tracy helping her niece to get the perfect shot with the girl’s digital camera.

Fredrick was the first to spot them, his upside-down position not detracting from the boy’s ability to recognise his parents. After a concentrated effort to right himself, he ran towards them and collided against his Mummy’s leg with force – a toothy smile all that was needed to put the world to right as he looked up at her.

Helena launched the toddler into her arms and held him close. “Are you having fun with Daniel and Kevin?” she asked, making conversation and listening intently to his fumbling replies.

“Mum!” Christina called after the Brit. “Look what I’ve got,” she shouted as she began to push buttons frantically. She made her way past her Mama, smiling briefly at the hand that ruffled her hair, before thrusting her gadget in the inventor’s face.

Myka stood by her sister and watched the scene unfold with a bitter-sweet smile. She could never be _thankful_ for the pain her lover had endured, but she appreciated how events of the past had helped to create this picture-perfect scene. She appreciated how her future in-laws must have struggled with their consciences while deciding the best course of action at a time when every path led to pain. She appreciated how they had all worked so hard for this familial idyll, particularly her fiancée.

* * * * *

After a beginning, the remainder of their holiday was full of camaraderie and laughter, and over far too quickly. Returning home to Boulder, they half-heartedly unpacked before deciding to order a rare take-away and vegetate in front of the TV with a selection of movies. Being still too young to sit still for so long, Freddy was allowed to drag his less noisy toys into the living room, which rapidly migrated from one piece of furniture to another. It was quiet chaos but oddly soothing for both adults.

By the following weekend, Pete had reached the end of his patience and invited himself over for dinner on Saturday. He spent an hour in the garden with Christina while Myka and Helena cleaned up and put their son to bed. Once the almost eleven-year-old was tucked up in bed too, Pete sat in the study looking expectant.

He spread his hands open wide, inviting the story. “What’s the buzz, guys? Tell me what’s a happenin’.”

“You are aware that my grandparents were regents of Warehouse 12?” Helena began and then immediately continued when Pete nodded. “Claudia popped by two weeks ago to tell us that they were instrumental in founding Warehouse 13, and that they faked their deaths and used an artefact to store themselves until someone chose to reanimate them in the here and now.”

Lattimer’s mouth hung open as he tried to process this information. “So, like... They’re back from the dead?”

“It feels that way but technically, they were not dead to begin with, just covering their tracks.” HG shook her head. A part of her still wasn’t prepared to acknowledge the truth. “It has been quite a helter-skelter of emotions this past fortnight I can tell you.”

Myka reached across the couch to grasp Helena’s hand. “I think you’ve dealt with it really well. We both have,” she added, deciding to give herself credit where it was due.

The inventor blew out a lung-full off air and ran a hand through her raven locks. “I’ll say! I could not have made it through this... incident with my sanity intact without your support, darling.”

“You still have some then?” Pete blurted, as tactless as always.

Myka’s indignant reaction was immediate. “Pete!”

Realising his mistake, he held both hands up in supplication. “Sorry! I’m sorry. Crap, HG, I didn’t mean anything by that, just teasing y’know... Ha ha?”

Rolling her eyes and not sounding half as offended as her fiancée, Helena brushed his comment aside. “If I’m honest, I’m rather more impressed with the speed of your witty response than I am offended by the implication of my questionable mental state.”

Hearing the backhanded teasing and seeing a slight glint of mischief in her partner’s eyes, Regent Bering allowed herself to relax again and sank back into her seat. After recent events, she was feeling somewhat overprotective of her fiancée and at this point, she wasn’t sure that she cared who she had to rake over the coals for upsetting the Brit. “Helena might be in a forgiving mood but I’m not, so you should maybe try to filter your thoughts a bit more, Pete.”

“Right, not antagonising scary Myka,” Pete responded. “So how did the grand-regent-‘rents make it here? I’m guessing they didn’t hide in the bronzer or find a worm hole.”

Helena reached for the information Claudia had left with them and searched through for the file she wanted. “The Cronus or Omphalos Stone,” she said as she found the papers and passed them to Pete. Knowing that he would only flick through the pictures, HG wasted no time in explaining what the artefact could do. “The story goes that the stone was discovered at the foot of Mt Parnassus and was the stone Rhea gave to her husband in place of their son, Zeus.”

“Chronos? As in, _Father Time_?” Pete wondered in his best deep, dramatic voice.

“Possibly. There’s some debate about whether Chronos, with a ‘ch’,” Myka explained, unable to help herself as she wrote the names on a post-it note. “And Cronus were the same character. Their stories might have shared similar origins, both appearing to depict the personification of time... but it doesn’t really matter,” she added quickly as she glanced up to find her friend’s eyes glazing over. “We’re dealing with the story of Cronus devouring his children and the Omphalos Stone.”

Helena smiled at her partner, appreciating as she always did the brunette’s love of knowledge. “The stone acts like an energy/matter converter, protecting the user from harm. From what I can gather, it is like a tether to the soul that uses it. I cannot help but think that my grandparents’ existence in the present relies on the artefact remaining in one piece. Time travel is a side effect of using it and is not wholly controllable by the user.” She thought aloud before moving swiftly on.

Pete quirked an eyebrow as he appeared to think it through. “Kinda have to wonder why they didn’t leave it for you to find,” he commented cautiously.

HG nodded. “We considered the same but after further reading, we discovered that it would not have performed as benevolently in my case.”

Myka heard the hesitation in her lover’s voice and took over. “Apparently,” she began, her tone holding an element of scepticism as she pulled together the legend behind the artefact. “As Rhea used the stone to save her son, at the risk of her own life, only selfless intentions will ensure that the user remains unharmed.”

“If I had attempted to use it at that point in my life, I would have plunged into an oblivion from which I could not have returned.”

“Oo-kay,” Pete half whispered to himself. “You have to be boilin’ over about this, am I right? Kinda surprised that you’re both so,” he waved a hand at them. “Chilled... Why aren’t you all like: HG, Myka smash!?”

Regent Bering couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s Hulk impression. “We were close to it, Pete.”

“It helps to have some perspective... finally,” the inventor added. “We are not upset that they are here, rather that they chose to lie about and hide so many things.” She exchanged a glance with her lover and pushed a hand through her hair. “The issue of their presence will work itself out in time. We have other information that I think you will be interested in.”

The regent couple pulled out family tree that they’d pieced together with Adwin, Irene, Don and Pete’s mom, and Myka picked up the next thread. “Steve and Meghan found out that they were cousins. I don’t know if Steve is aware of anything more about her, but she has an uncle on her side of the family who happens to be a regent and has ties to some other questionable people we’ve had the displeasure of meeting.”

Seeing the question in Pete’s eyes, HG began to list names. Only two really stuck out for him though. “Kipling? The dick-wad who Tesla’d Mykes in the past?” He barely waited for their nod before adding, “And McPherson? Is this scum-bags-r’us?”

“Rather more like a poisonous family tree. James McPherson’s grandmother’s maiden name was Kipling,” the inventor explained. “Apparently, family is very important to our enemy. Or at least, blood is.” She watched as his eyes finally began to travel over the large time gap to where their story supposedly began. “Their ultimate goal is to take control of the Warehouse and has been for a very long time,” she elaborated as she pointed to the name and date at the very top of the tree.

Helena and Myka spent the next couple of hours explaining to Pete all that they’d discovered. His shock over HG’s family sharing the same beginnings was short lived compared to his concern for the future as he finally began to visualise the horrors they might have to face.

As it had at Pete’s a few weeks earlier, panic crept upon the occupants of the room, prompting a subtle reaction from Myka’s engagement ring. A renewed sense of confidence grew within the ex-agents allowing them to focus more on the progress they were making and less on the numbing fear that lurked behind the scenes. Helena reached for her fiancée’s hand and the ring flashed, the boost of power forcing the clawing darkness further from reach.

Pete departed and left behind a promise to return later in the week to continue helping with the underground build. “Don’t think I’m letting you two forget about tying the knot either,” he warned. “Lila cut my snack ration in half so I’ll still fit into my suit for you, Mykes. Think of all the uneaten cookies out there,” he whined. “It can’t be for nothing.”

“Of course, feeling sorry for homeless cookies should be our priority for getting married,” Myka said sarcastically. “No one should take into account whether Lila’s restriction saves you from Type 2 diabetes, non-alcoholic fatty liver disease, or a heart attack.” Though she was teasing him, it was clear from her tone that these were not new concerns to have crossed her mind.

HG frowned. “And I’m not convinced that you can use ‘ration’ in this context. Your pastry consumption is hardly minimal, even at half of your preferred amount.”

Lattimer feigned offence as he stood on the threshold of their home, hand placed dramatically over his chest. “I don’t think you appreciate the magnitude of the sacrifice I’m making for you guys.”

Helena rolled her eyes at both his expression and her lover’s snigger. Tucked in the back of her mind, she was grateful for how lovely it was to hear the relaxed humour in Myka’s voice again. “My apologies,” she responded with the utmost insincerity. “Oh what you must be suffering, poor dear.”

“It takes effort to be this heroic,” Pete continued to ham it up.

Taking a leaf out of her partner’s book, the inventor jabbed the man’s upper arm and smirked at the predicted complaint that followed. “If we might be serious for a moment? Do not dismiss the health benefits entirely, Pete. Much as I might enjoy peace in your absence, Christina and Fredrick have no wish to lose their favourite uncle. Not to mention your own growing nest.”

“Why waste the opportunity to kick your sugar monster to the curb?” Myka added.

“Yeah, yeah,” the man-child grumbled. “I don’t have to go cold turkey, right?” he worried. “I don’t think I could handle those bird crackers you used to munch all the time,” he complained to his best friend.

Their playful back and forth continued for several minutes on the doorstep until they finally said their farewells and the regents stepped back inside their home. A quick tidy up on mugs and papers before taking turns in the bathroom and then they were crawling into bed and cosying up beneath the covers.

“I felt it again,” Myka remarked as she pulled the inventor’s arm against her chest and smiled at the sensation of lips against the nape of her neck. “I saw the worry in Pete’s eyes and started to feel it growing in the back of my mind and then... It was like last time; I felt panicked one minute and calm the next.”

“As did I,” Helena replied.

Each time they experienced their artefact responding to heightened tension in the room, they both became aware of its purposeful influence. How much it affected their day to day lives was less measurable, they rarely distinguished any change in their natural moods and handled difficulties as well as anyone. But when it came to issues regarding the future wellbeing of their family, that small circle of silver acted like a conduit between them and the Warehouse, as if it wanted to reassure them that they were in good hands and it would continue to look out for their wellbeing. That this included their friends and extended family was a surprising bonus.

“I still don’t know how comfortable I feel about it messing with our emotions like this,” Myka fretted slightly as she rubbed a thumb along the smooth, warm surface of her engagement ring. She watched and sighed as the stone shimmered in response. “I don’t like the idea that my self-preservation instincts are being muted.”

“Nor I,” Helena agreed as she usually did on the subject. “Though I maintain the opinion that we are in a better position to prepare for our future without a haze of panic clouding our judgement. Knowing what we know now regarding my ancestors, I imagine that any attempt to hide our family would be in vain.”

“So it’s better that we can live through each day without needing a dose of diazepam, I know. I still think it’s creepy. But I guess I can admit that I am relieved to be thinking clearly.”

A thoughtful silence descended on them and lasted long enough that Helena’s breathing began to settle in to a gentle rhythm, indicating that she was on the cusp of sleep. The shifting figure in her arms and the sound of her name jerked her out of semi-consciousness, bringing her back to reality. It was testament to the power of the ring that she was able to drift off so easily with such a heavy subject handing over her head.

“Yes, love?”

“We can’t prevent him from coming after our kids,” Myka noted matter-of-factly. “But we can limit the number of targets,” she finished with an air of reluctant finality.

It took Helena an abnormally long time to decipher the meaning behind her lover’s words. It was with solemn understanding that she answered. “Another child would create another target.” Despite the valiant control of emotion in the American’s words, HG could feel the disappointment they shared across their bond. “I’m sorry, darling.”

The consolation in her partner’s words and the knowledge that she wasn’t alone in seeing the difficult decision they had to make, pushed Myka past her barrier of confidence into grief for the child they could not risk bringing into the world. Rolling over, she buried herself in Helena’s arms.

Though it would not let them doubt their destiny, the Warehouse would not stand in the way of their grief; no reaction came from Myka’s ring, leaving the couple to their cathartic tears.

It would not interfere in this, not even if it could already see the infant in their future.


End file.
